Severus Snape and the Somewhat Useless Genie
by Dr. Hermione
Summary: Young Severus Snape finds a magic lamp complete with djinn, but he can't get the wishes he really wants. Also, the wishes he does get seem to take forever and a day to come true. This will eventually be a romance, but there's a fair bit of drama before we get there! Eventual SS/HG.
1. Out of the Muck

**Chapter One: Out of the Muck**

Severus Snape, who had just finished his fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, knew the upcoming summer was going to be downright miserable. Throughout the preceding school year, Lily Evans—who had been his best friend since he was nine—had started treating him coldly, which meant that he had no one to talk to when he was home. Lily had also started really paying attention to boys, Severus had noticed—and none of those boys was him. Since he had been in love with her since he first met her, this stung deeply. To top it all off, when he arrived back at Spinner's End, his parents' squabbles had turned into full-fledged warfare.

Since his home was uncomfortable and Lily's house was no longer an option, Severus took to wandering the streets from early morning until just before dinnertime. People tended to give him a wide berth, often crossing the street when they saw him coming. He didn't blame them. With his long, greasy hair, trademark scowl, and tattered Muggle clothes (now too short at the ankles and wrists, since he'd shot up several inches since he was last home), he was hardly a sight for sore eyes.

On the particular Saturday on which our story begins, Severus had decided to explore the area around the canal. Back in the glory days of the Industrial Revolution, it had been used to haul barges of coal up to the factories, and the Muggles had recently discovered that it had also been used as a dumping ground for all sorts of industrial waste—coal tar and the like. The Council had recently ordered it drained and planned to do some sort of remediation project to get rid of the carcinogens. Severus hadn't read the flyer that had come in the mail; he assumed that the process involved would be ridiculously complicated by the fact that magic was not involved.

His father would no doubt complain that it was unsafe for him to be walking along the empty canal, lined as it was with gooey toxic sludge. That was precisely why Severus had chosen to be here today. Besides, it was interesting to see all of the junk that people had decided to throw into the water—shoes, bikes, an old wagon, and…what was that?

Severus had caught a flash of gold out of the corner of his eye, about five feet from the old tow path that he was walking along. Looking around to see that no one was watching, he cautiously stepped into the mud. He reached down and found a gold-colored chain with some sort of pendant at the end. If it was _real_ gold, it would be worth some money! Severus reached into the pocket of his jeans with his clean left hand and retrieved a handkerchief to wrap the grimy necklace in. He stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket, then walked up the bank and wiped his muddy shoes and right hand on the grass. That thing he found had better be worth something!

~~SS~~

Back at home, the shouts from the basement indicated that his parents were still fighting over their project, which still wasn't working after all of these years. Why didn't they just give it up? He'd never understand. Still, this allowed him enough privacy to barricade himself in the single lavatory without being disturbed. The muck washed off of the chain fairly easily, but the pendant—which seemed to be shaped like an old oil lamp or something like that—had some crevices that might be difficult to clean. Snape held one end with his left hand and rubbed it a little with his right thumb and…

POP!

Out of the end of the lamp whooshed a tiny translucent figure (wearing a tunic, trousers, and a turban) which quickly grew to the size of a man.

"AAAAAAHHH!" squealed Snape in a very undignified fashion.

"Don't fear!" rumbled the figure in a friendly voice. "I'm Aziz, and I'm here to serve you!"

Severus scowled at the apparition in front of him. "Are you…are you a genie?"

"I am."

"Great! In that case, I…"

"STOP! Let me explain first." Aziz tapped his ghostly foot on the tile. "I've served enough humans in my time to know that there are all sorts of myths going around about what we djinn can and can't do."

Severus rolled his eyes. "So I can't just ask for money and suddenly have a fortune?"

Aziz shook his head. "You seem like a smart lad. Surely you know about Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration? I'm not exempt."

A thought suddenly struck the gangly teen. "But making someone fall in love—"

"Unfortunately, I'm only about as effective as a love potion—it's not real love," replied the genie.

"What sort of useless genie are you?" demanded Severus angrily.

"I'm not completely useless," retorted Aziz.

"Just somewhat useless?" replied Severus acerbically.

"That's one way to look at it," said Aziz. "I have been pretty helpful to my last masters. But since I'm with you now, that means they're dead and you can't ask for a reference. I know I'm not as exciting as fairy tales but—well, it would help if I knew what you were hoping for. Then I could tell you how much I'm capable of. Really, the best wishes are about changing you, and not your environment. Do you understand?"

Snape scowled. "Maybe. It explains the love thing."

"I can help other people too, but it's easier if you wish you could help them better. Does that make sense?" Seeing his master nod, the genie continued: "Please don't use the two magic words at the beginning when you tell me what you want—if you don't say them, I can help you phrase it properly before you make it an official wish."

"Sounds wise. So, if this is going to be a conversation, can we move from the bathroom so I can think better?"

Aziz smiled. "Now that you've rubbed the lamp once, so long as you have it near you, all you have to do is call me by name and I'll appear. Your bedroom might not be the best place—your parents might overhear you talking to me. Is there a more private spot?"

"There's a park nearby," Severus said quickly. He, Lily, and Tooney were the only ones who ever went there anymore, and he was pretty sure that Lily would be avoiding the place from now on.

~~SS~~

As he walked to the park, Severus thought about what he could wish for. He didn't want obsessive love from Lily—he wanted her to see him for what he was and love that. He could ask for better looks, but he knew she wasn't completely superficial. He needed to impress her!

Having checked that no one else was around, Severus hid inside a clump of rhododendron bushes and sat on the ground. "Aziz?"

"Here!" announced the ghostly figure, materializing out of nowhere.

"You don't live in the lamp?" asked Severus curiously.

"Only between masters," Aziz stated confidently. "I can be visible, which most people prefer, or invisible when it's most convenient."

Severus nodded. "Good to know. So I've been thinking, and I've decided I would like to be the most powerful wizard on earth."

Aziz sat cross-legged on the ground next to him. "Look, I don't want to discourage you or whatever, but I've had a couple of masters do that and it never turned out well."

"You mean, you couldn't actually do it?" scoffed Snape.

"No, they absolutely were the most powerful at the time," replied Aziz sadly. "But think—who's the most recent wizard in history who everyone said was the most powerful?"

"Grindelwald."

"And what happened to him?"

Severus thought a bit, frowning, and then nodded knowingly. "Now I see. When you're the most powerful, everyone goes after you. And the person who goes after you is usually the second most powerful. But I don't care so much about being at the top—I just want to be impressive."

Aziz smiled. "That, I can do. Would you say that you wish to be an 'impressively powerful wizard'? If so, say the words!"

Severus got to his feet. "I wish to be an impressively powerful wizard!" he stated boldly. Then he looked around in dismay—he didn't feel any different.

"Great! So let me explain how this works. I don't snap my fingers and make you instantly powerful—that's actually counterproductive. Being powerful means understanding the processes that make you powerful. Instead, I'll be your coach, so you progress faster than everyone around you."

Severus nodded thoughtfully as images from fairy-tale books ran through his mind. "You're right. If I got power suddenly, I might not be able to control it."

"Exactly. Like I said, I've done this before, hundreds of times. You have a strong magical aura and show clear signs of intelligence, so it should go relatively easy for you. It's best if we work on one field of study at a time—do you have a favorite?"

Snape scratched his head thoughtfully. "I'm already pretty good in the Dark Arts—that's not what I'll ask for. What I really need is a truly marketable skill."

A thought came to his mind—his mother, hunched over a cauldron; his father, shouting angrily at the results. Yes, he could make money that way. He could also please his mother and gain his father's respect at the same time. "Let's start with Potions," he said simply.


	2. Potions Apprentice

**Chapter Two: Potions Apprentice**

Aziz was obviously very excited with Severus's choice. "I love potions!" he exclaimed gleefully. The genie then quizzed his master on his potions knowledge, listening carefully and taking notes in a small, translucent notebook that he pulled out of a pocket of his baggy trousers.

"I think it's best to start with basics," Aziz said carefully. "It's not exciting, but you can't really get to the good stuff unless you have a strong foundation. It's helpful that your parents have a potions lab at home—otherwise you'd have to wait until you got back to Hogwarts, and that would be frustrating."

"But I can't just suddenly ask to start helping Mom! They'd think it was weird!"

Aziz smiled wanly. "Look, I know how people think, and I got a good feel for your parents while we were still at your house. What time do you eat dinner?"

"Seven on the dot every day."

"Don't go home until ten."

"Yeah, I've tried that. Do you know what Pops—"

"Trust me. If you learn to do that early on, it will make this whole process easier."

Severus grimaced. "I'll try it this once. You'll see."

"No, you'll see," said Aziz sadly.

~~SS~~

Severus finally slouched through the door of his family home at 10:13 pm and, as he'd predicted, was immediately hit with a blast of hostility. His father yelled; his mother sat in the corner quietly, skewering him with a vicious gaze.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, repeating the words that the invisible Aziz fed him. "My watch stopped, and it stays light so long at this time of year that I didn't notice. What can I do to make it up to you?"

"I'll show you!" shouted his father, but before he could land a blow, his mother got out of her chair.

"Tobias, wait. I have an idea. I could work faster if Severus did the ingredient prep for me tomorrow. Please."

Tobias Snape sighed and lowered his hand. "You're right, lass. It'll hurt him more to lose his free time. I'm sorry, Severus. It's been a bad day."

At least it was a bad day where he didn't drink, thought Severus appreciatively. "I'll do it, Pops. I know you're too tired to help properly when you get home from the mill."

Tobias Snape ran his hand through his scruffy brown hair. "It's been so hard. You know how important this project is to me."

"I know, Pops. I know. I'm old enough to help now. Please let me help."

"It would help if you read my genetics texts too."

Severus grimaced. "You'll help me if I don't understand something?"

Tobias grinned for the first time that Severus could remember. "I'd love to."

~~SS~~

The basement of the Snape home had been a converted potions lab for as long as Severus could remember. The Muggle neighbors thought of his mother as a "housewife," but she was really a potion brewer. Twice a week she shipped batches of Pepper-Up and Contraceptus potions to the apothecary at Godric's Hollow. That provided just enough money to cover the cost of her real job—as a potions researcher.

It was what had brought his parents together. Well, that and Tobias Snape's curiosity. Eileen had told Severus the story many a time.

_I was home right after I graduated from Hogwarts, trying to figure out what to do. And one day my father said, "There's that Muggle again. Why is he always hanging around our property?"_

_Our estate had Muggle-repelling charms, you know. Muggles shouldn't have been able to get close. And he couldn't get in, but he knew right where the border was, and my father said he'd come back every couple of days for weeks._

_Well, one day when my father was out I went out to the spot in the woods where the Muggle liked to come and I Disillusioned myself. He came up to the edge, and I saw him frown and run his hands over the edge of the wards._

_"I know it's here," he said. "Why can't I get into the Prince estate?"_

_So I popped out, visible you know, and I asked him what he was doing._

_"You're one of them," he said. It wasn't a question. "You're a witch. And a Prince."_

_I didn't know what to say. I couldn't tell him._

_"You're not allowed to say, are you?" He asked, and I shook my head._

"_My great-great-, well, many greats, grandmother was a Prince," he said. And she had a daughter who was what you call a Squib, and she married a Muggle. We've kept it hushed up, but we still remember that we have magic in our veins."_

_And then he told me how he was studying genetics and he wanted to find out if there were magic genes that lay inactive in Squibs—to see if he still had magic in him that he couldn't use. It made so much sense, Severus—it would explain Muggleborns and all that—and so we kept talking, and we fell in love, and then we got married. And we've been working on this project ever since…_

The project was, of course, a potion that would allow the recessive magic genes in Squibs to be expressed. Tobias was certain that he would be able to use magic if only the correct genes were activated. But nothing had ever worked.

For the first few years of Severus's life—the ones he couldn't remember—his father had been a technician in a genetics lab at the University of Manchester. But Tobias had been caught using an entire expensive vial of DNA polymerase for his own use and had been dismissed as a result. He'd never been able to find a science job again and had been relegated to working in the mill to support his family.

~~SS~~

When Severus entered the basement the following morning, Eileen Snape was busily poring over a book of notes. "I'm starting you on easy stuff, Severus. Cheap stuff, so it doesn't hurt too much if you mess it up. Cut this ginger in quarter-inch slices."

Severus retreated to the corner of the lab and began slicing.

"You need to change your grip on that knife," whispered Aziz. But his instructions didn't make sense to Severus, who shifted his hand around several times without meeting the genie's exacting specifications.

"I wish you could show me," he muttered under his breath.

The genie huffed. "I am, for all intents and purposes, a ghost. The knife would pass right through me."

Severus set the knife upright, blade on the cutting board, and held it in place by pinching the top of the blade. "Just position your hand."

A ghostly hand appeared over the blade and settled into the correct position.

"Ah, I see," he said and re-adjusted his grip once more. The difference was immediately obvious: his movements flowed more easily and the slices of the second ginger root were considerably more even.

Eventually he brought the cutting board over to Eileen. "I'm sorry, Mum, I was a bit out of practice on the first one."

"It's okay, Sevvie, that's why I started you on ginger. These other ones look great. Will you do three ginseng roots in quarter inch cubes now?

Cutting cubes had always been Severus's nemesis in potions up until now, but with Aziz's patient guidance even his first root was hugely improved over what he'd done during the school year; the second and third roots were cut as well as Eileen would have done.

By the end of the day, Severus had cut dozens of ingredients to Eileen's exacting specifications. Three batches of trial potion were complete, waiting for testing on Tobias Snape.

"You did great, Sevvie," Eileen said, reaching up to pat her son on the top of his head. (She was so small, and he was getting so tall, that it was a bit of a stretch.) "Did you like it?"

"I did, Mum. Maybe I could help again tomorrow?"

Eileen shook her head. "Tomorrow's an apothecary day. Maybe the day after?"

"I can help with the Pepper-Up, Mum. Please? If we finish early, maybe you can make Yorkshire pudding for dinner?" Tobias Snape loved Yorkshire pudding, but Eileen rarely had the time to make it.

"All right, Sevvie. Maybe I'll even let you help with the actual brewing tomorrow."

~~SS~~

Severus found his way into the basement every day that summer. At first, his mum watched him like a hawk, micromanaging his every move. After the first few weeks, though, she was comfortable to leave him stirring the Pepper-Up while she put her feet up or got a cup of tea. (She never allowed him to help brew the trial potions.)

The first time Severus was on his own Aziz popped into view.

"Six rounds clockwise, then one round counter-clockwise, then repeat."

"But the recipe says clockwise!"

"Think about it, Severus. Why do we stir?"

"To thoroughly combine the ingredients."

"Stir clockwise, as you're directed, and watch the potion. What do you see?"

"I see. Everything's moving constantly in the same direction. If I reverse the stir, it would cause more turbulence…"

"And combine the ingredients better. You learn fast. Go on now, give it a try."

Severus did, and the potion turned out perfectly—in fact, better than any of his mother's. She smiled at him and didn't say a word.

By the time Severus was ready to go back to Hogwarts on September first, two things were clear to him: he was greatly improved at potions, and his father would always be a Muggle. No potions, no genetic manipulation, would ever get him to be otherwise.

~~SS~~

Horace Slughorn was ecstatic at the change he saw in his young student. "Oh ho! I see it took a while for your grandfather's talents to manifest in you! Now your mother, Eileen, she wasn't bad herself, but she had nothing on Severus Prince!"

Severus (the younger; he'd been named after his grandfather) sneered at his Potions professor's pronouncement and buried his hooked nose in his textbook. He no longer paid much attention to lecture: Aziz was far more informative than Slughorn was. Indeed, the genie's voice was noticeably agitated every time directions for a potion were posted on the board. "What does he think he's doing? No! You should cube the gurdyroots, not slice them! Slicing doesn't provide enough surface area for them to react with the armadillo bile!"

At this point, Severus was grateful for his invisible friend and even for the fact that the genie was Somewhat Useless. If Aziz had been able to wave his hand and turn Severus into someone who could automatically churn out perfect potions, he would never have learned the basic principles that underlay the brewing of a masterpiece.

Needless to say, Severus Snape got an Outstanding on his Potion O.W.L. that year.

The summer following his fifth was spent helping his mother in the basement; Eileen was ecstatic that her son's talent matched (or exceeded) her own and allowed him to contribute ideas to The Project. But no matter what they did, what they tried, Tobias Snape remained firmly a Muggle. For as long as Severus could remember, his father had drunk heavily on occasion, but it seemed to be getting worse.

The following school year, Severus's sixth, was no different. In N.E.W.T.-level potions, he was given more freedom to explore. He scribbled notes (based on Aziz's guidance) into his mother's old copy of _Advanced Potion Making_ and soon found that he wasn't relying on Aziz much at all.

"You're doing well," said the genie one day near the end of sixth year. "I think you can get along on your own in Potions. What shall we work on next?"

"I'm doing well at all my subjects at school," Severus said thoughtfully. "Maybe I should work on something not taught at school? Dark Arts?"

Aziz shuddered. "You're already pretty good at those," he said. "You could improve, but you know what would be even better? To learn something that almost no one can do. Have you heard of occlumency and legilimency?" Severus shook his head, confused.

"Examining people's thoughts and closing off your own to examination. Check the library. There's a great book on the topic, by Clement Geschlossen. It's not even in the Restricted Section." (Severus had long since learned that while he slept, Aziz puttered around the castle learning all sorts of useful information.) "Start with the background theory," the genie continued, "And then we'll practice. This is the one sort of magic I can still do really well."

Severus grinned. This was going to be fun!

_Coming up: Chapter Three: The Second Wish. In which things go from bad to worse, forcing Severus to talk to Lily again._


	3. The Second Wish, Born From Fear

_Thanks to Padme & Smithback for the early reviews! The idea for this story just popped into my head like, you know, a genie and I couldn't ignore it._

**Chapter Three: The Second Wish, Born From Fear**

Gloom set in during the summer after Severus's sixth year. When his father was both at home and sober—a combination that seemed increasingly rare—Severus helped him in the small herb garden behind their row house or in the hydroponic bay tucked into one corner of the basement lab. (Tobias had always grown many of the ingredients for his wife's potions.) Unfortunately, his father—now in the depths of depression—no longer seemed to care for what had once been his favorite hobby.

Money was tighter than it had ever been before, now that more than a few pounds from Tobias's paycheck went to feed his whiskey habit. In a fit of desperation, Eileen consulted with Severus before agreeing to ship off more than her usual allotment of potions—five casks of Dreamless Sleep, plus a gallon of Skele-Gro, to be delivered to St. Mungo's before the end of the summer, in addition to the usually weekly allotments of Pepper-Up and Contraceptus and—for the summer only—Blood Replenishing Potion. (The latter potions had an extremely short shelf-life, which is why Eileen had been able to make a comfortable living brewing them the first two. By contrast, Dreamless Sleep and Skele-Gro both had a shelf-life of over a year.)

Severus helped his mother, of course. With the amount of time they had to spend on supporting the family, there was no more time for The Project. Tobias should have understood this, but instead he just got angrier—and drank more. The first few times his father attempted to hit his mother in front of him, Severus jumped in the way. After that, Tobias sent Severus on errands; when the boy returned, it was to find his mother hiding in the bedroom, covered in bruises, or cowering in a dark corner, sobbing.

Six weeks into the summer, Severus was doing all of the brewing—his mother was too afraid of her husband's temper to venture into the lab, even when he wasn't there—and experimenting on the side. Not on The Project; he'd long ago given that up as pointless. Instead, he was developing a bruise balm for his mother's usage.

One night, as he lay in bed listening to his father's shouts, trying vainly to go to sleep, he heard a whisper: "Severus? Have you forgotten me?"

"Oh, Aziz! I'm sorry. I've had so much on my mind, and…well, you can't really help with it." Severus had long ago learned that Aziz couldn't change others into someone they weren't.

"I can't stop your father being angry, or drinking, or any of that. But your mother…you want her to be safe and well, and there are ways that could happen."

Severus sighed heavily. Although he hadn't talked much to Aziz that summer, they'd spent so much time together during the school year that he was sure the genie understood everything he was thinking. "How do I say it, Aziz?"

"Hmmm," the genie said. "No one's ever asked me to do anything quite like this before. Maybe—Help you to find the right connections to keep her safe?"

"Don't know if that would work. Her brother hasn't talked to her in years," the boy scowled. "I've never even met him. And I don't know if my grandparents are alive." His mother had been really, truly abandoned when she married her Muggle lover.

"Hmmm," said Aziz. "Maybe more generically, you should ask to find the way that will keep her safe from harm."

"But you don't know what to do!" cried Severus in anguish.

"I'm more powerful when you invoke the wish," countered the genie.

"I wish to find a way to keep my mother safe—and happy!"

Aziz closed his eyes and was silent for a bit. Finally he said, quietly, "You should talk to Professor McGonagall."

"A Gryffindor!"

"Shhh. I don't understand it. I just have the feeling…yes, that's the right tack. Send her a letter."

"But how?" Eileen hadn't kept an owl for years. She relied on the apothecary's owl to collect her shipment and bring payment.

Aziz stared at Severus somberly. "You already know how to do it. You just don't want to."

~~SS~~

Two days later, while his father was at work, Severus walked as fast as he could, hoping to get his errand done before he could lose his nerve. The letter he'd written the night before was sealed in an envelope, stuffed carefully into the pocket of his jeans, along with two small vials. Gritting his teeth, he stalked up the front walk of a well-kept home and rang the bell.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

Severus had forgotten how shrill Petunia Evans's voice could be. "I need to talk to Lily."

"She's busy. With friends."

Severus could hear female voices, one of them Lily's, floating down from upstairs. "I just need five minutes."

Petunia shrugged. "I can try, but what's in it for me?"

Severus smiled and held out a phial. "Love potion?"

Petunia smirked. "Get out! Why should I believe you?"

He uncorked it and held it under her nose. "What does it smell like?"

She shrugged. "Nothing."

"It doesn't taste like anything, either. Not sure it will work on Muggles, but it might. Whoever he is, he'll never know, one way or another."

Petunia snatched the cork out of his left hand and the potion out of his right, resealed the phial, and stuffed it in her pocket. "I'll get Lily."

A few minutes later, Severus was being skewered by Lily's cold, green eyes. "What right do you think you have to come here after what you said to me?"

"None," he said baldly. "I just—I need to use your owl. It's an emergency. I'll pay in potions."

She looked at the flask in his hand. "No, don't give me whatever it is you've got there. Just—just help with one potion of my choosing, in Slughorn's class."

Severus nodded. "One potion. No more, no less. No questions asked about the letter."

She held out her hand. "Who does it go to?"

He passed her the letter. "McGonagall."

Lily nodded. "It'll be sent. But never again, Severus."

"Never again. I understand."

~~SS~~

One week later, a Hogwarts owl arrived at Spinner's End with a letter addressed to Severus Snape. It contained his book list, of course, but also a short note with detailed instructions. The first instruction said: "Show this letter to your mother." There was more information: how to pack, where to go, what the keyword was. The last instruction said: "Eileen, memorize this information and burn it as soon as you are able."

~~SS~~

Early on the morning of September 1, before anyone was up, Eileen Snape helped her son carry his trunk out the back door, through the back gate, and into the alley. They were just outside the apparition wards here. She held one handle of the trunk in one hand and Severus's hand in the other. Without a word, she turned on the spot, and the two disappeared with a sharp crack.

~~SS~~

Two figures—a short, scrawny woman and a lanky youth—appeared in the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron.

"Can you make it to the station OK?"

"I took a couple of pounds from the tin. I can take a taxi." Severus breathed deeply and looked down into his mother's eyes. He took in the fading bruise on her left cheekbone, her sad eyes. "You're sure about this?"

"I am."

"All right, then." He reached down, popped the lock on his trunk, and pulled out a bag. "Your things, Mum. Be well." Leaning down, he kissed her forehead.

"Oh Sevvie—I'll try to keep in touch." A tear ran down her cheek. "Be well, little boy. I'll miss you."

A tabby cat appeared out of the mist. Meowing, it twined around Eileen's ankles. Severus acknowledged its presence with a subtle tilt of his head. Then he turned around, picked up his trunk, and walked into the bar, heading for the Muggle world. He didn't look back. He knew if he did, he would cry.

~~SS~~

_Coming Up: The Third Wish, Born From Anxiety_

_In which Severus tries to become a better person, but doesn't quite succeed._


	4. The Third Wish, Born From Anxiety

_Thanks for your patience, everyone! This chapter was supposed to cover all of Severus's seventh year, but (a) this is already plenty long for a chapter and (b) it's taking me really long to write the rest of the year, which turns out to be a really rough time for our protagonist. I suspect that Year 7 will actually end up as three chapters (4, 5, and 6)! Here's the first installment._

**Chapter Four: The Third Wish, Born From Anxiety**

The first two people Severus saw as he stepped onto Platform 9 ¾ were James Potter and Lily Evans—wrapped around each other, kissing like there was no tomorrow.

_Why today_? he asked himself. _Of all the days to find out, why did it have to be today?_ His emotions were still too raw to talk to people, so he strode past his classmates brusquely and found an empty compartment at the rear of the train. Any time a younger child looked through the window, he scowled at them until they went away. When the train began to move, he was still by himself.

He wanted to be with his mother to reassure her, but she wasn't there. So he called for the one who was—"Aziz?"

"Here, master."

"Will it work?"

"I think it will. And I know McGonagall—she won't leave you hanging. She'll let you know."

Severus closed his eyes. "There's no way for me to get Lily, is there?"

"I can't say for certain, but it's not likely."

"Even if you made me exactly the sort of person she could love?"

"Even then. You could be the perfect person and she'd still be free to choose someone else."

Breathing heavily, Severus managed to squelch the sob that was welling up in him. "So I'll be alone forever."

"I can't say that either, master."

"But there's no one like Lily."

"No," said the genie gently. "But there are others who can be just as kind as Lily—kinder, even. There are others who are just as smart as Lily—smarter, even. And maybe you would even find some of them just as attractive as Lily."

"But I can't just wish for someone to love me."

"Well, you could," said Aziz practically, "but I couldn't fulfill that wish."

A tear ran down Severus's cheek.

"Poor boy. You're so lonely."

"I shouldn't be. I have you—and Rosier—and Wilkes—and—"

"They call themselves your friends, and yet none of the Slytherins see you for who you really are."

"You do."

"But I'm not human, Severus, and you are. I'm not mortal, and you are. We can never be equal, and that's what you need—an equal. You'll find one, sooner or later."

"But if I did—" Here Severus looked up at the genie pleadingly, "If I did, would she even love me?"

"If you were the right sort of man for her, she absolutely would. What sort of woman do you think you need?"

Severus shrugged. "I'm not sure I know. What sort of woman do _you_ think I need?"

Aziz scratched his ghostly head with one hand as he stared out the window. "Brilliant. Powerful. Loyal. Tender-hearted." He paused, then turned and grinned at his master. "With more than a little bit of attitude."

Severus steepled his fingers, thinking, and then nodded. "Yes. Aziz, I wish to become the sort of man that a brilliant, powerful, loyal, tender-hearted, sarcastic woman would fall in love with."

Aziz curled his hands into fists and rubbed his eyes. "Well, you are already brilliant and powerful yourself, and your sarcasm needs no work. I will help you to become more loyal and tender-hearted." He stopped, regarded Severus carefully, and then said: "I'm not sure how I know this, but it's going to be a while. A good long while. So we'll work on your patience as well."

~~SS~~

"How was your summer with the Muggles?" Narcissa Black sat very correctly upright in the armchair positioned just a few feet from the bearskin rug where Severus lay sprawled in front of the fire.

"My father is hopeless," Severus said morosely. "The most useless Muggle in all of Muggledom."

Narcissa waved her hand gracefully. "But haven't you said before that Muggles aren't useless?"

"Generally not," growled Severus. "But my father is an exception. If he would just drink himself to death, the world would be a better place."

"What a hopelessly futile wish. Have you ever thought of, well, showing him who's boss?"

"All the time. But I never did, for Mum's sake."

"Is she safe with him?"

"She's not with him anymore. Whether she's safe or not, I don't know."

"Dear, dear. Perhaps I shouldn't say that's what happens when you marry a Muggle, but I'm afraid it seems to be true. You _do _know that my sweet Lucius has some rather nasty hexes that might be useful in teaching your father a lesson, don't you?"

"I'm sure he does," sneered Snape. "But I'm sure I have some that are better." In his third year at Hogwarts—and Lucius Malfoy's fifth—he'd been challenged to a friendly duel. Lucius's best hex at that point was Bat-Bogey. Severus had cast a non-verbal Levicorpus followed by a quick stunner, thereby winning the match. Lucius had been trying unsuccessfully to best him since then.

"Oh, but haven't you heard?" asked Narcissa sweetly, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Lucius is in the Dark Lord's inner circle. There is no dark magic that is banned there. He told me that he's becoming quite astute at the Cruciatus, among other things."

Severus had heard of the Unforgivables, of course, but had never even tried to cast them. All of the books that discussed how to cast them had long ago been removed from the Hogwarts library, and Aziz merely shook his head and flounced back into his lamp when asked for more information.

"When do you come of age, Severus?" asked Narcissa.

"January ninth," he replied.

"Just after start of term. A pity. But if you wanted, you could join during the Easter holidays. The Dark Lord would love to have an adept potion brewer in his service, and I'm sure he would be glad to teach you more of the dark arts."

Severus hadn't felt so excited in a long time.

~~SS~~

Two weeks later, in Transfiguration class, James Potter "accidentally" hit Severus with a stray spell right at the end of class, leaving him with a pig's nose. "Potter! Five points from Gryffindor!" reprimanded Professor McGonagall. "Class dismissed—but not you, Snape. Come here so I can fix you."

As the professor pointed her wand at Severus's nose with her right hand, she surreptitiously took his left hand in hers. He felt a crinkle of paper. As his nose twisted painfully back into its normal beaky shape, McGonagall whispered: "Destroy it when you're done. It's secret-kept." Her normally stern face softened, and she added, "It's hard on everyone, these first few months. I remember all too well."

Severus nodded and ducked out of the room, hurrying to the his common room for a bit of privacy. The small slip of parchment read:

_Eileen Prince lives at Tabby Cottage near Lockerbie._

He clasped the paper to his heart briefly before casting it into the fire.

~~SS~~

"I don't understand," Severus said towards the end of November. He and Aziz were sitting under a willow (the normal kind, not the 'Whomping' sort) near the edge of the lake, braving the chill, in an effort to gain a little privacy. "Weren't you supposed to help me become tender-hearted and loyal?"

"All in good time, my dear fellow," rumbled Aziz, who was sitting cross-legged and seemed to be crocheting something with translucent yarn. "Have you sent your mum an owl yet?"

"I can't! What happens if someone sees the owl disappearing into nothingness? They'll know where her cottage is!"

"I'm pretty sure that's not how it works."

"I'll bet she's lonely. She probably has no one to talk to! Is she scared that Pops will find her? Is she bored, hiding out all the time? How am I supposed to give her a Christmas present if I can't see her?"

"Shhhh!" said Aziz calmly. "Don't get all worked up. It interferes with Occlumency, remember?"

"How can I not get worked up?!" snarled Snape. "She's my mum!"

"Close your eyes. Breathe in: one, two, three, four. Hold: one, two, three, four. Breathe out: one, two, three, four. And hold: one, two, three four."

Severus had learned to follow Aziz's instructions without question, and he sank deep into the breathing exercise. Eventually he opened his eyes. "My heart may not be pounding, but it still hurts like hell."

"Feeling a bit…tender, are you?" Aziz winked at his master.

"That is _not_ what I asked for! I'm supposed to be tender-hearted for the woman who will love me!"

"Severus, dear child—if you want to win the heart of a tender-hearted woman, you must feel compassion for every human being under the sun. Do you understand? So take these feelings that you have for your mother and spread them out to everyone."

"Everyone except my father," said Severus with feeling.

"Including your father," replied Aziz. "_Especially_ your father."

~~SS~~

_Coming up in chapter 5: Christmas with Mum, followed by Easter with Pops…or is that Lucius I see?_


	5. Good Holidays, Bad Holidays

_CW: Torture and death._

_This was a hard chapter to write; I hope it's worth the wait._

**Chapter Five**

**Good Holidays, Bad Holidays**

"Please see me about your essay." Six words that no student wants to see scrawled on a graded manuscript. Six words that Severus Snape was staring at, uncomfortably, as Evan Rosier smirked over his shoulder. "Good job, _Prince_. What'd you do, insult the Gryffs?"

"Shut up, Rosier," Snape said irritably. He had no idea what he had done. It could be that McGonagall wanted to talk to him about his mother, but he'd thought that before and she'd just chewed him out. So he dawdled after class, pretending to rearrange the books in his bag, until everyone had left.

"Your essay was quite good, actually," said the dour professor once he'd approached her. "You're really starting to understand the underlying theories of transfiguration." Severus had to fight to keep from grinning like an idiot. He hoped that Aziz was similarly grinning inside his lamp.

"But that's not why I wanted to talk to you. Just—don't sign up to stay over Christmas holidays. But don't get on the Hogwarts Express, either."

"Yes, ma'am." It was only two weeks to hols, and Severus could suddenly no longer wait. "Thank you, ma'am."

He stalked out of the classroom in a semi-dignified fashion. Once the door had closed behind him, he looked around carefully to make sure the corridor was empty before jumping up and down excitedly.

~~SS~~

On the afternoon of December 21, Severus, carrying a rucksack full of clothes, accompanied Minerva McGonagall down towards the gates of Hogwarts. They walked in silence until they had passed outside of the wards; then the professor turned to ask, "How are your apparition skills?"

"Not bad," admitted Severus. He'd taken the classes during his sixth year and had successfully passed the apparition test the previous June.

"Good," she replied. "You know what it feels like." With that, she caught a hold of his arm and turned.

They were in a stand of barren trees—oak, birch, and alder, standing next to a fence.

"If you ever need to find this place by Muggle means, it's the Eskrigg Wildlife Reserve," McGonagall said briskly. "Just west of Lockerbie. There's good train service to the village."

"A wildlife reserve?" Severus panted as he tried to keep up with the old witch, who was jumping over fallen branches and occasional logs as easily as though she were walking down the sidewalks in Hogsmeade.

"It's the easiest way to keep the Muggles out. There are farms on all sides, and when Muggles see the fence we landed near, they think they're coming into farm territory. Also, no one thinks much if they see owls flying in and out. We've set it up so you can't apparate into the reserve; if you visit again, just go to that point where we landed."

Severus wasn't sure whether he could retrace his steps to wherever they were going, but he just said, "Yes, Ma'am."

"By the way, how did you know to ask me?" the professor said, cheerily. "Did you know I once had to leave, too?"

Severus shook his head. "Pure instinct, ma'am. You just felt like the right person to ask." He didn't say that it was a genie who had felt that.

"I was lucky I—in fact, no one in my family—ever told Alfie about this place. It's been our vacation spot for years but I never came when I was married."

"But he can find you now, can't he? I mean, everyone knows where Hogwarts is, and everyone knows…"

McGonagall stopped and skewered Severus with a withering gaze. "He was a _fifty-year-old_ man taking advantage of a naïve, _eighteen-year-old_ young woman. A Muggle who's been gone for years." Her face softened, and she added with a smile, "Besides, I have a brother who can be a bit intimidating when he wants to be."

They started walking again, and soon the woods opened up into a small clearing containing a homey little cottage. The door crashed open and Eileen Snape came flying out, running with arms outstretched…

"Oh, Severus, I've missed you so," she said as they hugged. "My dear little boy."

Severus snickered—his mother's head was firmly tucked under his chin—and said, "Mum, when will you stop calling me your little boy?"

"Never!" Eileen said decisively.

~~SS~~

As it turned out, Professor McGonagall was only there to deliver Severus to his mother. She explained, "I promised to spend time with my brother and his children at the ancestral pile." And then, vowing to return in time to bring Severus back to Hogwarts, she swept off.

So Severus and his mother were left alone for the holidays. They brought in a small fir tree (cut on a neighboring farm, with consent of the owner; they didn't want people to see them cutting anything in a wildlife preserve) and decorated it with snowflakes and paper chains. They baked everything from cookies to plum pudding and sat around reminiscing about amusing past events.

There was only one argument during the whole holiday. The two Snapes were down in the basement, brewing—Eileen hadn't skipped a single delivery of potions to the apothecary in Godric's Hollow—when the dreaded question came up.

"Why haven't you written, Sevvie?"

Severus looked up from the ginger he'd been slicing. "Mum! I just didn't want anyone to track the owl and find you."

Eileen frowned. "Severus, even if someone could follow an owl to a secret-kept location—and they can't—that someone would absolutely NOT be your Muggle father."

"But Mum! You need to be safe!"

"I am safe."

"He's going to track you down and find you! Do you remember the time we tried hiding at the Baileys' house?"

Severus had been eight. He'd watched his father choke his mother until she passed out. The next day, a Friday, his mum had picked him up from school and taken him to a friend's house. They stayed there all weekend. When Eileen picked Severus up after school on Monday, Tobias was waiting there too. There was no threatening; just begging, cajoling, and pleading that he really had changed this time. Severus had heard through the grapevine that Tobias had stormed all over their neighborhood, knocking on every door and asking for information. (The Baileys lived on the other side of Main Street, a much better neighborhood where Tobias never ventured.)

Eileen shook her head in response to Severus's question. "He's not like that anymore. If he really wanted to find me, he'd have gone to Godric's Hollow to find the apothecary and get information that way. But he hasn't been by."

"YET."

"He'll settle down soon enough, and then…"

"Mum! You can't go back. It's not safe."

"It wouldn't be permanent unless I was sure I was safe. I'm saving my money, keeping it at Gringotts so he can't get his hands on it, so I can leave again any time. I'm brewing more now, too, and I might be able to get a full-time position…"

"No, Mum, you can't. You just can't."

"Marriage is for life, child. You should know that."

"In the wizarding world! But you weren't married by a wizard. You got married at the courthouse. So go down to the courthouse again and…"

"Not one more word about this Severus! Get that ginger chopped right now and keep your mouth closed."

~~SS~~

The night before he left for Hogwarts, Severus summoned Aziz again.

"Having fun, master?"

"I wished for her to be safe and she's thinking of going back! What is it with you and your lousy wish fulfillment services?"

"Master, you know I can't change other people's minds on your behalf. But I do know a bit about psychology. And you know, the longer she stays away, the less she'll think about returning. Just keep stalling her."

By the end of the break, Severus had convinced his mother to stay until the end of the school year. "I can protect you better when I'm there with you, Mum."

"Perfect," she'd replied. "Minerva needs the cottage back for summer anyway; her nieces and nephews are coming to visit."

Six months. He had only six months to change her mind.

~~SS~~

It was less than a week after his return to Hogwarts that Hugh Mulciber, Evan Rosier, and Nigel Wilkes approached him in the common room after dinner. "Happy Birthday to the Half-Blood Prince!" announced Rosier brightly, waving a bottle of elf-made wine. He reached behind him for the tray of goblets that was levitating behind him. "Let's toast!"

"And open your gift," Mulciber added with a smile. "I wasn't sure whether to give it to you or not, but I noticed that your mum didn't…" Eileen had sent him a present of some books—used, of course—via owl that morning.

Severus opened the smaller present that was handed to him and found the traditional coming-of-age gift: a wizard's watch. He was a year past the traditional coming-of-age, but his parents had never given him one. "Thanks, Mulciber! You're the best!"

"Have a good time with your Mum, Prince?" Wilkes asked after they'd toasted Severus's good health.

"Mostly," he admitted. "I forgot how good her plum pudding is. And her fruitcake."

"Ooh, yeah!" exclaimed Rosier. Eileen had sent Severus a fruitcake via owl a few years prior, and Rosier evidently hadn't forgotten how much he liked it.

"She doing okay?" questioned Mulciber. By this point, most of his friends knew that his parents were separated—and why.

"For now," replied Severus darkly. "But she's thinking of going back at the end of the school year."

This pronouncement was met by three simultaneous exclamations: "No!"—"What's she thinking?"—"What does she see in that Muggle?"

Severus shrugged. "I just need a job straight out of school and my own place, so I can protect her."

Wilkes smiled. "Talk to Lucius. He'll take care of you."

"Why would he take care of me?"

"Well, you know—he's always looking for protegés. _Especially_ people who don't like Muggles."

"It's not that I don't like Muggles, it's—"

"Just say you don't, and your mother doesn't, and he'll take care of you both."

And so owls were sent, and plans were made, and Severus gritted his teeth and hoped he didn't regret this new alliance.

~~SS~~

"I just don't like this, master." It was March and Aziz and Severus were, once again, sitting under the willow tree next to the lake. Aziz had hooked his legs over a branch and was hanging upside down—a favorite pose; he said it helped him think better.

"But I need to keep her safe, and I can't stall forever."

"Have you looked into jobs opening up after Hogwarts?"

"There's not much available. I mean, I could qualify as an Auror—they're hiring—but who would want to do that?"

"Have you contacted your uncle?"

"Uncle?" Severus frowned. "Dad's an only child and…"

"And your mother has a brother," interjected Aziz.

"But my grandparents…"

"Are dead, and your uncle isn't."

"How do you know these things?" Severus said grumpily.

"My dear boy, the process of fact-finding became considerably easier the day I became a djinn. Your uncle Tiberius still lives in your ancestral home in Shrewsbury. He's eleven years younger than your mother—he hadn't yet left for Hogwarts when she eloped with your father. It's worth a shot."

Severus shook his head. "You don't know pure-bloods. It won't work."

"Please, master. You really shouldn't do this. There are other options."

"This is what we're doing, and that's that. Now, tell me how to use the _Imperio_ curse."

~~SS~~

The plan, as Lucius had explained to Severus through his letters, was to give Tobias a good scare.

_If he knows that hurting a witch will bring retribution on him, he'll behave. Bullies are like that—they only hurt people if they can do so without consequence._

Malfoy, Rosier, Wilkes, Avery, and the Lestranges would all accompany him to teach the lesson. He'd heard rumors about Bellatrix and Rodolphus, but had never met them in person.

_It's important for us to be unrecognizable, because we should represent all witches and wizards. So we'll go in our Death Eater robes and masks._

That was the part that Severus didn't like. His father knew plenty about the Death Eaters through their long-running subscription to The Daily Prophet, and Severus did not want to be associated with them in his father's mind. But there was no way he could go into a confrontation like this unless he was backed by powerful wizards, so he saw no other way.

~~SS~~

Severus had promised his mother to visit over the Easter holiday as well, but told her he would arrive late. "One of my friends is having a party the first day," he said. "I can apparate myself, now that I know where to go."

And so, after leaving the Hogwarts Express, he apparated directly from King's Cross Station to the lane outside Evan Rosier's house. Rosier, smiling, took his hand and apparated again. This time, they appeared outside a large estate lined with hedges. The gates swung open silently and the two young men walked through the twilight towards a large white manor house.

Lucius Malfoy himself opened the front door. "Severus and Evan, welcome! Come in! We'll have dinner soon, but first there are people I'd like you to meet."

Severus was introduced to several new faces, including Lucius's father, Abraxas; Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange; an oily-looking foreigner named Igor Karkaroff; and a burly young man named Walden MacNair. The latter greeted him with a shifty smile, mentioning how much he loved putting Muggles in their place.

A small part of Severus's brain told him that the dinner was extremely delicious, but he could barely register its taste. He was on edge, all of his nerves prickling, telling him that something was not right. And then, at the end of the meal, the invisible Aziz whispered in his ear: "Quickly, master, leave! Leave while you still can!" But Severus didn't. What could possibly happen at a dinner party? He still had plenty of time to back out…

But then he looked out the window and saw a black shape hurtling through the sky: A man, flying through the air without broom or magic carpet. The other dinner guests rose to their feet. "Our master has come!"—"Come, Severus, come and meet our master!"—"The Dark Lord is here!"

The Dark Lord! Well, Severus had heard a thing or two about this Dark Lord; and while he'd rather not meet the man, he'd at least go into the meeting prepared. In his mind, he pulled forth his liar's palace, as Aziz called it, and locked his Occlumency shields firmly behind it. Then, and only then, did he allow Lucius to present him to the man who styled himself as Lord Voldemort.

"Severus Snape. I have heard so much about you. Look at me, boy." The Dark Lord practically hissed in his low voice. Severus raised his eyes and immediately sensed the probing he associated with Legilimency. He allowed the Dark Lord to sort through the memories he kept in his liar's palace, focusing extra hard on the memories in which his father hit his mother.

"A powerful wizard despite the Muggle father," said Lord Voldemort after viewing a memory of Severus dueling Lucius. "You will do nicely, my boy. You are off to teach your father a lesson, are you not?"

Severus forced himself to maintain eye contact while nodding slowly.

"Well, then, let me give you a little something to boost your power," said the Dark Lord, and, reaching out, grabbed Severus's left wrist. "Pario Morsmordre!" he shouted, and a fierce burning sensation seared through Snape's arm. He gritted his teeth, willing the pain to subside, and gradually got his burning under control.

Lord Voldemort was looking at him with a smile on his snake-like face, his red eyes crinkled in pleasure. "The same privilege I bestow upon my loyal followers, but temporary. If you like it, there's just one thing to do to make it permanent. This is your night to try it out."

Severus looked down in shock at his left forearm, where the Dark Mark had been branded.

~~SS~~

After dark, they apparated to the edge of the river near Severus's house. Lucius and the other Death Eaters disillusioned themselves for the walk down Spinner's End. Severus had changed into a t-shirt and jeans so as to not look out of place, but his wand was stuck in his pocket. He'd left his robes, cloak, and—more importantly—the necklace containing Aziz's lamp in a closet at Malfoy Manor.

He walked up to his old home and rapped sharply. The door opened a crack, and then was suddenly flung wide to reveal Tobias Snape, tall and gaunt-faced. "Severus! Where's your mum?" The smell of whiskey was strong on the older man's breath.

"I won't let you see her until you promise to keep your hands off—and mean it," said Severus confidently.

"I promise! I promise I won't hurt her again!"

"I've heard those words before," said Severus. "Too many times. I said you had to promise _and mean it_. And now I'm going to make sure that you mean it, Pops. I'm going to come in now, and so are my friends, and we're going to show you why you should never hurt her again."

Tobias's eyes darted around the front porch, looking for the previously named friends; seeing none, he backed up, allowing his son into the house. Severus pushed forward, forcing his father up against the rear wall of the lounge. The door swung shut, pushed by unseen hands. And then, with a pop, six hooded figures appeared in the room.

"S-S-Severus. Death Eaters? What are you doing?"

"Pops, I don't know if you realize it, but I'm a full-grown wizard now. Have been for over a year. I've only held off of you for Mum's sake. I can make you do anything. Did you know that? _Imperio!_"

The unforgivable curse shot out of Severus's wand with a fierce power that he'd never felt before in practice. He forced his father to his knees, made him grovel on the floor, made him curl up in a ball.

"You see, Pops? I can make you do anything and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

But then Tobias Snape screwed his eyes shut, breathed deeply—and stood up, shaking his head. Severus could tell that the force of his curse had broken.

"No, son. Your mind tricks won't work on me forever. And I'm still bigger than you and stronger than you. You and all of your friends!" He grabbed a stick from the stack near the fireplace and waved it threateningly.

Severus waved his hand and—wandlessly, non-verbally—cast Levicorpus on his father. "Not feeling so great now, are we?" he smirked, looking at his father hanging ankles-first from near the ceiling.

"I'll beat you up, upside-down or no!"

"No, no you won't." The cool, smooth voice of Lucius Malfoy issued from one of the masked figures. "Because, you see, if you hurt any witch or wizard, we will come after you. _Crucio!_"

Tobias Snape's gaunt frame wracked with pain, still hanging from the ceiling. "Stop! Stop him, Severus!"

Lucius waved his wand again and Tobias breathed deeply. "That was just a taste, Muggle. It will hurt more the next time."

"I am not a Muggle!" roared Tobias. "I have the blood of the Prince family in my veins too, just like my wife! I'm a wizard!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, then, _wizard_, stop me from doing this! _Crucio!_" shrieked Bellatrix. Her ability to cast the Cruciatus curse was obviously much more powerful than her soon-to-be brother-in-law's, and Tobias shrieked in agony. "Come on, all of you, help me teach him a lesson!"

Rodolphus and Lucius joined in with their own shouts of _Crucio_, while Avery, Wilkes, and Rosier—who obviously hadn't mastered the Unforgivables—shot any sort of hex they could think of.

"Please, stop! I promise! Severus, I promise I'll be good!"

"That's enough!" yelled Severus. "Stop!" But they kept on going.

_Liberacorpus_, he thought, and his father's body slumped to the ground. But this did not dissuade the Death Eaters: indeed, it seemed to enrage Wilkes, who ran over and started kicking and punching Tobias.

Severus saw, in his father's eyes, a spark of something—something he'd never seen before. Tobias closed his eyes, breathed deeply, and then—a great wave of magic pulsed out, knocking the Death Eaters off of their feet.

"That's all I can do, boy," whispered Tobias Snape, weakly. "Tonight, twice, I've used magic. And now I can die happy."

"But you're a wizard, Pops. You don't have to fight with Mum anymore."

"He's no wizard!" shrieked Bellatrix, getting to her feet. And she turned her wand on Tobias again, hitting him with a fresh wave of the Cruciatus. Her husband joined her, cackling with glee.

"Severus!" whispered Tobias, his body still wracking with pain. "End it. It's enough. I don't deserve…just end it."

Lucius stood behind Severus, putting his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You know what he's asking, Snape. He wants it, and it's the only way to guarantee your mother's safety."

Severus knew, all right. He just couldn't do it. He couldn't…

But then, a wave of darkness and power washed over him, starting from his left wrist and sweeping upward. All of the memories he'd saved in his liar's palace, the ones of his father beating his mother, swam to the forefront of his consciousness and stayed there, intensifying his anger and the power rushing through his body. And, as if in a trance, he spoke the words:

"_Avada Kedavra."_

There was a flash of green light and a renewed surge of pain in his left arm—a surge of pain so intense that he blacked out and crumpled to the floor.

_Up next: Severus deals with the consequences of his actions._


	6. The Price of Safety

**Chapter Six**

**Consequences and Meetings**

When Severus awoke he was in a comfortable bed in a light, airy room.

"You're awake!" The voice was female and vaguely familiar.

His vision was fuzzy. With a groan, he rubbed his eyes and blinked. "Nar…Narcissa?"

"Yes. Let me get Lucius."

"No, please, Narcissa, just some water."

"Dobby will get you some water while I fetch him."

Small hands helped Severus to sit up just enough to sip from a glass. He blinked again at the creature that was assisting him. Bat-like ears, protuberant green eyes—he knew it had to be a house-elf, but he'd never seen one before.

"Is this Malfoy Manor?" he asked the creature.

"Dobby serves the Malfoy family, sir. And their friends," the elf added carefully. "Sir is in the green bedroom, directly above the dining hall."

Lucius strode through the door. "How's the newest Death Eater?"

Severus choked. "That was just a trial run, right?"

"The Dark Mark is given as a trial before someone is accepted. If they are worthy, and if they wish to seal their commitment, they so indicate by casting the killing curse," the older man said quietly. "As you did so adeptly last night. Most need a couple of tries, their first time around."

Severus lifted his left arm, looked at the mark burned into his flesh, and rolled over so he was lying face down: he could no longer bear to look Lucius in the eye. "Dear God, what have I done?" he mumbled to himself.

~~SS~~

Before he could leave Malfoy Manor to visit with his mother, Severus had one more discussion to have.

"I knew you would not disappoint me," said Lord Voldemort.

Severus struggled to maintain his liar's palace under the force of the Dark Lord's Legilimency. "You are wise," he said tentatively. "I did not know I could do it." No resistance was needed to state that—it was the truth.

"I hear you are a master at brewing." Voldemort rubbed his hands together gleefully. "I'm sure a powerful wizard like yourself would rather be out harassing Muggles, but I could use some assistance with a few potions…"

"Whatever you want, Master," replied Severus, hoping his relief would not show too clearly. He could brew potions, all right. Especially if it meant he didn't have to kill again.

~~SS~~

At last, Severus was able to Apparate back to Lockerbie to meet up with his mother.

"Sevvie!" she exclaimed happily, hugging him, and then reaching up to ruffle his hair. "You're turning into a man. Look how tall you are! Just like your father!" She ignored his sharp hiss, continuing: "Come in! I've been baking. Let's eat, and you can tell me all about your classes. How's Potions with old Sluggie?"

The Easter hols were only a week (plus a weekend); Severus had spent a day traveling and most of another day at Malfoy Manor. This meant that, fortunately, there were only six days before he had to return to King's Cross. (He normally thought it was a shame that you couldn't just apparate directly to Hogwarts. But in this case, he was glad that a whole day had to be devoted to travel.) The whole week was awkward. Severus helped with brewing, as usual, but he had no desire to make small talk with his mother the way he normally did.

The night before he was to leave, his mum made a pot roast with Yorkshire pudding to celebrate their last evening together. They were just sitting down to eat when there was a knock on the door.

"Who could that be?" Eileen asked bemusedly. "There are Muggle-Repelling Charms on this place."

Severus got up. "I'll look, Mum, don't you worry." His hand crept into his pocket, closing around his wand. Carefully, he brushed back the drapes just enough that he could peek out. The man standing on the doorstep somehow looked familiar, and yet Severus was almost positive he'd never met him before. Perhaps he'd seen a photograph somewhere? He was a fairly young man, not much over thirty, with a severe face and long, stringy, brown hair.

"Who is it, Severus?" his mother whispered. She'd tiptoed behind him. He shrugged and moved aside, still holding the drapes ajar. Eileen peeked out and exhaled sharply. "No, no, it can't be!"

"Be who, Mum?"

Eileen ignored Severus and, pushing past him, flung the door open. "Ty?"

The man stumbled inside, enfolded Eileen in a fierce hug, and started sobbing on her shoulder. "Eileen, Eileen, you're safe!"

"Tiberius, what are you talking about? Of course I'm safe. How did you find me? I'm supposed to be Secret Kept!"

"Minerva told me. She couldn't come herself—something happened at the school, some student injured or something. I've been looking for you for days! I was terrified when I couldn't find you, and then I finally went to Hogwarts in case Severus was there, and that's when Minerva told me where to go."

Eileen bodily dragged the man over to the table and pulled out a chair. "Sit, Ty. Let's talk about this slowly and rationally." She paused, looked at her son—still standing across the room with one hand on the door—and said, "Severus, this is your Uncle Tiberius. Ty, your nephew."

Severus scowled, tamping down fury. "How did you even know I was at Hogwarts when I've never met you in my life? Where have you been all of these years?"

Tiberius Prince rested his elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands. "It's a long story. Why don't you close the door and sit down? There's a lot to say."

Severus nodded and swung the door shut, then stalked over to the table. His Mum sat down and carved the beef, portioning it on plates, as Tiberius began his story.

"Your mother was just shy of nineteen when she met your father. I was eight. Yes, there was a big gap in our ages—our mum, your grandmother, had a hard time staying pregnant, and there were only ever the two of us. Once I was born and there was officially a male heir, she retreated into her room and never spoke to my father again. I only have fuzzy memories of her; she died when I was seven or so."

"Eight," interjected Eileen. "The beginning of my sixth year."

"Could be," remarked Tiberius mildly. "We didn't celebrate my birthday that year. Anyway, when I was eleven, your mother ran off with your father, and the whole family was horrified. Mum would have been okay with it, if she were alive, but Dad was angry and our grandparents were absolutely livid. So the three of them—my grandfather, Augustus; my grandmother, Bridget; and my father, who was also named Severus—cast a Banishment Charm on her."

Severus spoke up. "How is a Banishment Charm different from a Banishing Charm?"

Tiberius shook his head, frowning. "Banishing pushes things away from you, right? Banishment _keeps things away_. Not things, really—people. She couldn't come back. Not to the house, not to any of the family. It's blood magic."

"But you're here!"

"Grandfather died a few years after casting the Banishment—not long after you were born, Severus. Grandmother died—let's see, it would probably have been six years ago now. And then Dad died just last year."

"And then the spell was broken?"

"The blood part, anyway. It was easy enough to get rid of what remained. And then I had to find you."

"That part was fast," said Eileen carefully.

"Mum, you knew? And didn't tell me?"

"This is the first time I've seen Ty since he was a boy. But he sent a house elf."

"Yes, Mopsy told me where you were living, and that you had a son. So I came to the door myself—"

"Where he was promptly confronted by your very drunk father," interjected Eileen. "You hadn't come home from Hogwarts yet—it was late May, I think. Tobias told him that if he ever came back…"

"He'd kill her," said Tiberius angrily. "So I had to plan. In the meantime, I sent Mopsy back to scout, and she told me that you had no money, so I sent food—"

"But not too much, and not too good," Eileen pointed out. "So your father didn't suspect."

"When I went back in person the first time," Tiberius continued, "No one was home. There were a lot of empty whiskey bottles, and I feared the worst. But I noticed that all of your things were gone, Eileen, including the photo albums. So I knew you must have left him. I tried sending Mopsy to you again, but she couldn't find you."

"Because I was Secret Kept."

"I went back again, last week, hoping Tobias would be home, so I could talk to him and get clues. But the whole house was surrounded by those cars with flashing lights—"

"Police?"

"Yes, those. And the neighbors were all standing around and whispering, and then they took out a body in a bag—I thought the worst, at first, but it was too tall to be you, Eileen. So I figured it must be either Tobias or you, Severus. A bit of sleuthing helped me figure out it was Tobias. He's dead, Eileen. You're safe."

She shook her head sadly. "I can go home. But I _can't_ go home, Ty. I can't go back to a place of awful memories. Not Spinner's End, and not Prince Hall. What am I going to do?"

"There's always the villa," Tiberius said cautiously.

"ITALY?"

"Wait, what? Italy?" Severus was dumbfounded.

"Yes, yes, we have a villa outside of Genoa. You're descended from proud Italian wizard stock, Severus—that's why all our boys have emperor names. It's also why we never made the Sacred Twenty-Eight—no proper British wizard would ever accept foreigners," Eileen exclaimed haughtily. "Even though the Prince family has been in Britain for over five hundred years. Arrogant bastards. But Ty, I can't possibly leave Britain when Severus is still in school."

Tiberius shook his head. "Eileen, there's magic! We can have Portkeys made, and talk through magic mirrors, and—well, we can't do it here thanks to the Ministry, but in Italy we can create a protection locket for him. He'll be safe!"

"But my job—"

"Oh come, now, Eileen, you're of age; you can have the gold that was put aside for your dowry. You're independently wealthy in your own right."

"But I _like_ brewing," she said sadly.

"And you can keep on brewing. But brew what you like, not whatever some apothecary wants you to make. Or find an apothecary there who wants things brewed."

"But I'll be so lonely—"

"I'll come with you, until you settle in, until Severus can join you," said Tiberius earnestly. "Please, Eileen. I've been waiting so long to have my sister around again."

"And I'll be done in June," added Severus. "Just a few months, Mum."

Tiberius looked down at his plate, poked at the beef with his finger, then pulled out his wand and re-warmed everyone's dinners. "Now I think I can actually eat this," he said merrily.

~~SS~~

There was another meeting Severus had to endure, and he postponed it as long as possible. Eventually, two weeks after returning to Hogwarts, he pulled Aziz's lamp out of the balled-up shirt he'd shoved to the bottom of his trunk and rubbed it.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" roared the djinn, swooping furiously about the room. "Did I not say—Didn't I tell you—"

Severus crumpled to the floor. "You did, and you were right. I should have sent for Tiberius. I should have given Lucius a wide berth. You were right."

Aziz draped a translucent arm over his master's shoulders. "And you need someone to listen, not someone to yell. I'm sorry, master." He pushed Severus's left sleeve up and prodded the Dark Mark cautiously. "I really can't do anything about this, you know."

"If only I had a wish left," groaned Severus miserably.

"Oh, no. Didn't I say? The three-wish limit is also a myth," said Aziz cheerfully. "It's rare anyone actually gets more than three wishes to come true—they all take a while to happen—but it's possible."

"Oh, Aziz!" exclaimed Severus eagerly. "But you said you couldn't—how do I phrase it?"

Aziz tapped his chin thoughtfully. "It's linked to your master. So you could wish that he would be destroyed. You'd have to do everything within your power to make it happen, of course, even though that mark makes it impossible to do the deed yourself."

"Aziz, I wish that I can enable a powerful wizard to arise and destroy Lord Voldemort!"

Severus gritted his teeth as the jolt of magic that always accompanied a wish rushed though his body. Then he looked longingly at Aziz. "Well?"

Aziz rubbed his eyes. "Oh, master. Poor master Severus. It's going to be a while. Decades, in fact. But I think that I know a way to make it more bearable. You'll need to sacrifice a lot. Are you prepared?"

Severus closed his eyes and thought of his father's writhing body. "I'll do anything, Aziz. And this time, I really mean it."


	7. Freedom and Servitude

**Chapter Seven**

**Freedom and Servitude**

Severus had been counting down the days until N.E.W.T.s for months. When, at last, he'd finished his last examination, he strode swiftly out of the Great Hall, out the front doors of the castle, and down the steps onto the lawn. He'd finished a little early, and no one else seemed to be around—classes for the younger set ran for a couple of days yet—so he made his way along the lakeshore, past the willow where he usually sat to talk with Aziz, to a thicket of bog myrtle. It was hot and humid: the perfect sort of day to swim in the cool, clear water of the lake.

Hidden in the bushes, Severus shucked off all but his pants, then leaped directly into the water. He splashed about a bit, checking to make sure he was hidden from direct view of the castle (he was; the willow further down the bank assured that), then grabbed his wand long enough to cast a Bubble Head Charm. That done, he dived deep into the lake, wand in hand. He explored the depths until he caught a peek of the Mermish Village—he knew better than to actually approach—then headed up to the surface, as his body temperature had dropped enough that hypothermia was becoming a real threat. As he got to the surface, he heard a squawk of glee.

"Well, well, someone's left their clothes behind! I wonder who these belong to." Severus knew that voice: it belonged to Sirius Black.

"No, no, can't you leave whoever it is alone?" Remus Lupin, ever the do-gooder.

"Let's see what it's got in its pocketses." That was James Potter. If he dug around enough, he'd find Aziz's lamp…

"Aziz!" whispered Severus, shivering. "I wish for you to make those three jokers run away!"

A ghastly apparition streamed from the edge of the Forbidden Forest: green face; long-black hair; waving black robes. It pointed at the Marauders, smirked, opened its mouth, and—"A Banshee!" squealed Sirius, running away with his hands clapped over his ears. His two friends followed hot on his heels.

Severus waited until they were out of sight beyond the willow before hauling himself, dripping, up onto the bank. "Thanks, Aziz," he said, as the hideous figure morphed back into its normal, genial appearance.

"How could you be sure it was me?" Aziz asked curiously. "If I'd been a real banshee, I'd have shrieked by now, and you'd be dead."

In response, Severus pointed wordlessly at the objects Aziz held in one hand. "You still had your knitting needles."

"I'm surprised you didn't take them out yourself," Aziz commented as Severus cast a warming charm.

"Too cold to concentrate," the wizard replied as he pulled on his robes. "You should never have told me that I had an unlimited amount of wishes."

~~SS~~

"Well? What now?" Severus and Aziz were sitting alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express again. Aziz was crocheting this time—Severus couldn't tell what, but it seemed to be something that seemed to be more hole than yarn. The djinn had only glanced up momentarily to ask his question.

"Spinner's End first," said Severus. His mum had written him to say that she and Uncle Ty were going to clear most of Tobias's belongings out of the old home and had asked whether he wanted to keep anything. (Severus had only wanted the books.) They were keeping the house for now, she said; Ty had given her the money from her dowry and she'd paid off the mortgage. She wasn't going to live there, but there was always a chance that she might need her own space in Britain.

"And how long are we staying?"

"I don't know. Long enough to cast some protective charms—don't know why Mum didn't do that before. Maybe change up the furnishings a bit. And then Italy, to see if I can find gainful employment there."

"You'd probably have to learn Italian first."

"I'm not too worried about that," Severus said, grinning. He knew that Aziz was fluent in about fifteen languages, including Italian—and had, in fact, served more than one Italian master during the Renaissance years.

The train slowed as it approached King's Cross Station. "Don't get off right away," Aziz cautioned. "Wait until the trolley witch comes through to make sure everyone's off." Severus nodded. He'd been safe from bullying in previous years, mostly because his mother had been there to protect him. But James and Sirius had already made his life a living hell that year (as though it wasn't bad enough already) and he wasn't going to give them one last opportunity to bully him. He watched out the window as families reunited, then—once he saw that Orion and Walburga Black had left the platform with their son—levitated his trunk down from the shelf.

"Let's go home, Aziz."

~~SS~~

"I can't blot that evening out of my mind," Severus admitted to Aziz two days later. "How can I ever live here?" Following the djinn's advice, he'd spent the first few hours at Spinner's End adding Noise-Muffling, Notice-Me-Not, and Muggle-Repelling Charms to his childhood home, followed by Anti-Apparition Wards.

Aziz shrugged. "Perhaps you can't. But maybe you could change the look of the place?"

Severus frowned and, with a flick of his wand, transfigured the old-fashioned, pink settee into a dark brown leather couch in a more modern style. "I'm not sure this will change anything."

"You have to change the whole layout," suggested Aziz wisely. "Maybe remove the wall between the dining and sitting rooms. Rearrange which furniture goes where."

"No, I like it when visitors can't see my dirty dishes," Severus responded. But he waved his wand again, levitating the bookcases from the side near the fireplace to the opposite wall, near the stairs. Observing his work, he shook his head silently.

"I'd go with built-ins," commented the djinn. "Hide the stairs as much as possible."

Severus grinned; he transfigured the existing bookcases to be an integral part of the wall, then conjured another one to hide the opening to the stairs. "I've always wanted a secret room," he noted.

"Now let's do something with that fireplace," Aziz said. "Maybe river rock?"

Severus looked at it and had to tamp down a surge of panic as memories of his father hanging, upside-down, rushed to the forefront of his consciousness. "No," he said. "I don't think we want a fireplace here at all. "We're wizards, after all. We don't need a fire to keep warm." He flicked his wand, boarding up the fireplace, then conjured more bookcases until that wall, too, was completely lined with them. Snape looked around once again, then waved his wand again and again, until the wall leading to the kitchen was also obscured—another bookcase-door covered the door to the back half of the house. "That's better," he commented.

"It does make the room look much smaller."

Severus shrugged. "It's different enough."

Now you just need…" Aziz twirled lazily in the air. "Hmmm, maybe two thousand books to fill those shelves?"

Severus smiled. "Uncle Ty sent me some gold for a graduation present." Then suddenly he let out a hiss of pain and grabbed his left arm, which had begun burning in earnest. Oh, no. He'd almost forgotten. Up until now, the Dark Mark had been a mere inconvenience—he hadn't been able to go without his robes at school. The thing wasn't just a fancy tattoo, it was a mark of servitude.

Because he knew the consequences for disobeying a summons—Lucius had filled him in on that—he pocketed his wand, grabbed the bundle containing his Death Eater robes, and ran down the back alley to a point where he could Apparate.

He appeared on a moor, about a hundred yards from a large bonfire. He stopped long enough to pull on his robes and mask, then dived into his liar's palace again, pulling forward the memories he wanted the Dark Lord to see and hiding the rest behind his Occlumency shields.

"Severus," Lord Voldemort said. His snakey face looked even more grotesque than usual in the flickering firelight. "Congratulations on finishing up at Hogwarts. Do you have plans for your future?"

"Serving you, my lord. And brewing for profit as well." That was true; he could think of nothing he would rather do than to create master-level potions.

"You have a position?"

"No, my lord. I was going to look after a visit to my mother." He pushed a memory of Eileen to the surface—the one where she and Tiberius were talking about going to Italy.

"Don't stay in Italy too long, Severus. It takes too long to Apparate from there. You have to do at least four, maybe five, separate jumps; I need you here."

It took all of Severus's effort to subvert the part of him that wanted to cry in a childlike voice, _But I don't want to be here. I want my Mum._

"Yes, Master."

"I'll have Elmore Greengrass contact you. He works—"

"For St. Mungo's, yes, I know." Eileen had often sent potions to Elmore—the basic, time-consuming ones that a true Potions Master didn't like to waste time on. "Thank you, Master."

Voldemort inclined his head regally (or, at least, as regally as a snake-man could) and wandered over to talk to Avery about his post-graduation plans.

~~SS~~

That first call of Voldemort's hadn't been so bad, Severus mused as he sat in a French café the following day. Really, it was meant to introduce the newest recruits to the circle of Death Eaters; that was all. But he knew things would get worse.

Voldemort was right that Apparating to Italy was not for the faint of heart. Severus had first Apparated from Manchester to Southampton, and from there to Paris. His last apparition, from Paris to Lyon, had left him feeling physically exhausted and magically drained. He was proud of himself—most wizards could only do two Apparitions in a row—but he was also not stupid enough to try a fourth jump. So after arriving at Lumiére Université (which had a special arrival room for international Apparition), he'd wandered across both Rhône and Saône Rivers, eventually stumbling tiredly into the Café Luna. He thumbed through a book he'd brought, but soon nodded off over his cup of espresso.

~~SS~~

Four hours later, feeling much refreshed, Severus Apparated to the ferry terminal at Ponte Cristoforo Colombo in Genoa, where his mum and uncle were waiting for him. "Sevvie!" squealed Eileen, pulling him into a hug. "You look beat! Don't worry; you won't have to Apparate the rest of the way. Bortoletto!" A loud crack heralded the arrival of a house elf—this one with dark eyes and a swarthy complexion, clad in a bath towel draped like a toga. "Bortoletto, this is my son, Severus."

"Master Severus," said the elf in a gravelly voice, sweeping into a low bow.

"Please take Severus to the villa," commanded Eileen.

"Yes, mistress," said the elf. Then he reached out, grabbed the wizard by the hand, and pulled him through the squeezing, twisting space that was Apparition.

~~SS~~

"It's beautiful, Mum," Severus said, marveling that his mother had given up a home—no, two homes—like this to live in the squalor of Spinner's End.

The villa—properly, Villa Principio—was a sprawling estate made of marble (brought over from the Dolomites, Uncle Ty told him) perched on top of a hill outside of Portofino Vetta. There were ocean views in three directions, and this late at night you could see the faint glow that was Genoa in the distance. The house was furnished with exquisite taste, with imported Persian rugs underfoot and carved mahogany furniture.

Severus wanted to sleep right away—he really was exhausted—but his mother, of course, wanted to chatter: about his performance on the N.E.W.T.s (the results would no doubt be delayed, as it would take an owl days to get to Genoa from the Ministry), about what he thought about her decision to purchase the house on Spinner's End. And, of course, about his plans.

"But Severus, I really thought—"

"Mum, it's _Elmore Greengrass._"

"I know it's a good opportunity, but don't you think it can wait a year or two?"

"Mum! If I wait a couple of years he won't hold the spot. I really need to do this now."

She sighed. "How much time do I get you for?"

"I start July 15. So a bit over two weeks."

Uncle Ty trotted up with a large jewelry box. "Well, lad, we'll make it easy for you to get back here, at least." He popped open the chest. "Pick a bracelet."

Severus poked through the contents of the tray Uncle Ty had indicated. They were all charm bracelets: some silver, some gold, some platinum, even one made out of copper. He eventually settled on a gold one that was less likely to react with cauldron fumes.

"Connect the boot charm with the leaf charm, and you'll be brought here," instructed Ty. "Putting the lion and the flower charm together will deliver you to Prince Hall."

"Unauthorized Portkey?" asked Severus, curiously.

Uncle Ty shrugged. "Similar, but not quite. It's very old magic—some of these charms date back almost to the fall of Rome. Don't worry, lad, the Ministry doesn't know how to detect this stuff. We've learned that through experience."

It was magic that would, of course, allow him to rejoin the Death Eaters even all the way from Italy. But Severus decided then and there that the Dark Lord would never know about his Prince family heirloom.

~~SS~~

The weeks in Italy passed far too fast for Severus's liking. He'd never seen his mother so happy. Eileen was still brewing—in a lab that probably surpassed the one he'd work in at St. Mungo's. She had contracts with apothecaries in Genova, Firenze, and Roma, she told her son. (Severus noticed that she always used the Italian names for the cities and was, in fact, relatively proficient in Italian.) She was working on developing new potions, too—in particular, an anti-venin that neutralized adder and viper venoms.

Severus helped his mother brew, swam lazily in the pool (their own private pool!), and took occasional walks on the beach. He also spent private time with Aziz—learning Italian, of course, but also just strategizing about how to fulfill his two as-yet unfulfilled wishes.

Soon it was time for him to return—and to test out his new charm bracelet. "I'll come with you," said his uncle, "if only to introduce you to the house elves."

Ty went first, using his own silver bracelet, and then Severus—after kissing his mother goodbye—touched the lion and the flower charms together. This method of travel, whatever it was, was much easier physically than apparition: just a slight squeezing sensation, and then he was there, in a grand two-story entrance hall. "Mopsy, Cottie, Flopsy: this is Master Severus. Mistress Eileen's son," Ty said, squatting down to look directly in the elves' eyes as he talked to them.

"Another Master Severus!" squeaked one of the elves (Cottie, if Severus remembered correctly). Mopsy (he thought) nodded sagely and rasped, "At last we has found you, Master. Will you live here?"

Severus thought of the coming and going he might have to do on Voldemort's behalf and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm apprenticing at St. Mungo's and they have quarters for me there."

"But Master Severus will come around on holidays? Beltaine, perhaps? Or Samhain?" inquired Cottie eagerly.

Severus pondered a bit, realized that Voldemort might want to work major magics on days of great significance, and shrugged. "I'll let you know."

Why had he ever become a Death Eater?

~~SS~~

Despite what Severus had told the house-elves, the quarters at St. Mungos weren't, in fact, for permanent usage, but rather for any brewer who needed to check on a complicated potion with a long brewing time. Severus found that, as the apprentice, he was often given responsibility for checking on potions like this—usually, stirring or adding ingredients every two hours around the clock. Being the St. Mungo's potions apprentice was _hard_—but mostly because of the long hours. Still, he did get a reasonable amount of time off most evenings, most of which he spent at Flourish & Blotts or reading back at Spinner's End.

Master Greengrass was a quiet man who, after ascertaining Severus's facility with potions, often merely pointed out the appropriate potion recipe in a book and told him what quantity to brew. Severus often worked in his own lab—to minimize cross-contamination as they each brewed different potions—which allowed Aziz to be out, openly giving suggestions when warranted. But, as the months passed, Aziz said less and less—and even occasionally said that he'd learned something new that day.

The best part of his job was that Severus felt free to suggest modifications to a recipe that would enhance its potency. Master Greengrass would brew the modified potion himself and then run it through complicated magical tests before using it on patients. He often nodded approvingly at Severus's work, but that was virtually all the feedback the young wizard ever got. Still, after seven years of working under the overly gregarious Horace Slughorn, Severus was very pleased with his supervisor.

~~SS~~

There was, of course, his _other_ boss—the one whose demands more than made up for the easy-going nature of Master Greengrass. Often, Voldemort would send a request for particular potions—sometimes by owl, and sometimes via another Death Eater (frequently Master Greengrass himself). Then Severus or Master Greengrass would set up a containment field in a closet between their labs and brew the dark potions during breaks between creating draughts meant for healing.

It wasn't until Samhain that Severus was actually called (through the burning of the Dark Mark) to come to the Dark Lord's side again. "Time for mayhem and destruction!" Voldemort chortled gleefully, and he split his followers into groups of six, giving each a destination.

Severus arrived at a small cottage outside of Portsmouth. His targets, he'd been told, were a branch of the Bones family. "Muggle lovers, the lot of them," one of his group mates had said contemptuously. Severus had killed once before, and that was one time too many for him. So he held back somewhat as his fellow Death Eaters rushed towards the house.

"Aziz," he whispered.

A small voice near his ear said, "Yes, Master?"

"I wish for the inhabitants of this house to be safely moved to Boston."

"As you wish," said the invisible djinn, and Severus felt the familiar thrum of a wish taking hold. "I'll leave behind golems."

And so, a few minutes later, when Severus blasted the small figure of a girl with the Cruciatus curse, he could put the full force of his power behind it—because he knew that the real Bones daughter, whatever her name was, was actually many miles away.


	8. Parties and Prophecy

_Warning: this chapter contains material of an explicit sexual nature._

_I did think about how necessary the sexual details were to the plot. Answer: very important, as you'll see when Our Hero eventually gets to know his soulmate. Then I actually had to write them, which took forever, as I'm not very good at writing sex scenes. I hope you enjoy it. The next few chapters will be sex-free, which means I will write them faster._

_This is a very pivotal chapter—and not just because Severus finally gets laid! _

**Chapter Eight**

**Parties and Prophecy**

The worst thing about being an apprentice at St. Mungo's, Severus realized a year later, was that he rarely got holidays off. Christmas? Most likely time for a child to blow themselves up with a new present. New Year's Eve? A common time for people to burn themselves with fireworks. And so on, ad infinitum. Master Elmore Greengrass got those days off, of course—only his apprentice had to stick around, just in case, staying the night in the small bunkroom behind their office, waiting for an emergency.

The only holiday Master Greengrass ever worked was Samhain, and that was primarily because it gave him an excuse to avoid the Death Eater gatherings that always occurred on that night. Master Greengrass might be a supporter of blood purity, Severus had learned, but he didn't like to get his hands dirty.

But because they both knew the holidays would be a busy time, Master Greengrass always made sure they were well stocked with common potions, and very often arranged for shorter days (and even days off) in the weeks preceding the busy times.

It was about three weeks before Severus's second Christmas at St. Mungo's. He and his boss were both sitting in their shared office, eating lunch, when Severus was surprised to hear his normally reticent supervisor asking a personal question.

"Is your mother a harpy?" he asked. "I mean—not the real sort, but the sort who hounds you into doing all sorts of things you don't want to do?"

Severus shook his head. His mother was so happy to see him, on the rare occasions he did get down to Italy, that they almost never did anything but lounge around and talk (or talk while brewing).

"Rats," said Elmore mildly. "I was hoping you might have some advice. But you're too much like me."

"What is your mum asking you to do?" inquired Severus.

"Go to a party," replied his boss with a sigh. "She wants to _match me up_. With a _witch._"

"Do you prefer wizards?"

Master Greengrass's eyebrows disappeared in his bushy hair. "Well, to be honest, I could go for either. But it's not the…" he paused, and then whispered, "the sex I'm worried about." He frowned before continuing in a more normal tone of voice, "She wants me to settle down, get married, have some kids. That means having a _relationship_!"

Here he stopped talking for a moment but continued gesticulating frantically. Eventually he said with a sigh, "Can you imagine _me_ having a relationship?"

Severus scratched his head—and then listened, carefully, as Aziz whispered in his ear.

"I think the secret for a man like you would be to get a woman who loves talking. She'll think you're a great listener!"

Elmore shrugged. "Of course, then I'd have to listen to her."

Severus smirked, nodding. "When you were home. But how often are you actually home?"

"Hmmm. You think a witch would be okay with that? Me being gone all the time?"

"Maybe an independent witch. I know a few, though they're too young for you."

There was a long silence as they finished eating their takeout curry. Then Elmore said, "Would you come with me? I want to make sure I have at least one person to talk to, in case everyone else is a bore."

Of course, Severus didn't want to. But the man was his boss and would be the one recommending him to a new employer when his apprenticeship was up, and so he said, "Sure. I'd love to."

~~SS~~

As it turned out, the party wasn't as bad as Severus feared. It was mostly purebloods; many of the partygoers who were roughly his age had been in Slytherin house. The first people he saw were Lucius and Narcissa, who had finally wed. (Severus had received an invitation but had been working the night of the ceremony.) Severus introduced his supervisor to Narcissa, who'd also had a dab hand at potions, and mentioned that Elmore was looking to find a bride. Narcissa told him she'd think about possibilities.

Next, Master Greengrass introduced Severus to his brother Gareth, and then to Lucretia Yaxley, who was the daughter of an old friend—an old friend who was, much to Elmore's regret, currently out of the country. Severus remembered Lucretia as an unapproachable beauty (she'd been three years ahead of him in school) but, as it turned out, she was much more friendly than he'd built her up to be. "I'm working up in Spell Damage," she said frankly. "Just got promoted to full Healer. We should have lunch together sometimes—I'm a little sick of…" (here she looked around, checking to see if Elmore had left, which he had, before continuing in a whisper) "…hanging out with old folks." Severus nodded. Yes, he liked quiet, and he definitely didn't like parties (the overlapping conversations in a banquet hall did crazy things to his brain), but he was becoming a bit too hermit-like for his own good.

~~SS~~

The day after the party, Master Greengrass mentioned that his mother was trying to arrange a marriage between him and Aurelia Nott. "Who's only thirty-five," he grumbled.

"But you're—you're—"

"Fifty-six, I know," grumbled Elmore. "But my mother says that's what I get for waiting so long, and I suppose she's right."

Within a month Elmore was, indeed, wedded to Aurelia, and six weeks after that he informed Severus that his wife was expecting. "At least I don't have to worry about bearing an heir," he grunted. (His older brother, Gareth, already had a son attending Hogwarts.) "As far as you're concerned, just know that in a few months you'll need to run the show by yourself for a while—a month or so."

Severus stared at him, gaping like an idiot.

"You'll do fine," reassured his master. "You're almost as good as me!" 

~~SS~~

The other repercussion of his visit to the party was a blossoming friendship with Lucretia. It was strictly platonic—Lucretia was already engaged to marry Herman Bulstrode, a beater for Puddlemere United. Lucretia's marriage, like Elmore's, had been arranged, but she was okay with this. "Herm's a decent sort," she said during her first lunch with Severus, "and pretty smart despite his knucklehead appearance."

Even if she hadn't been betrothed, Severus would never have loved her. For all her good looks—she was tall and curvaceous, with sparkling hazel eyes and wavy brown hair—she was a raging extrovert who loved parties and name-dropping, and absolutely abhorred books. In short, her personality was the polar opposite of Severus's. This was not to say they didn't have anything in common: the mere fact that they shared an employer—and came in contact with some highly interesting (and irregular) medical cases on a daily basis—meant that they had plenty of fodder for lunchtime conversation.

As the weeks ticked by, Severus grew more and more adept at potions; Aziz became more and more bored, as he had little to advise Severus on most of the time; Master Greengrass spent fewer and fewer late nights in the lab; and Severus's conversations with Lucretia became more and more personal. (They'd taken to getting takeout and eating in one of their offices.)

"So you've _never_ been with a woman before?" Lucretia exclaimed one day in mid-February. "I'll have to find someone for you. Someone who would be a good teacher." At which point she started giggling and suggesting names—which started out bad and grew more and more horrifying in Severus's eyes.

In early March, she was more worried about herself: "I don't know what's wrong with Herman. He's not talking to me. Distract me with something funny, Severus." And so Severus did, telling her the story of the time Nott had accidentally flushed his wand down the toilet and they had to do a search of the plumbing (magically, of course) to retrieve it.

In late March, Lucretia had more news: "He wants to break off the engagement."

"What?" Everything Severus had heard up about Herman up until now had been nothing short of extremely positive. He could tell Lucretia really cared about him, and if the things she'd said about his actions were true, the feeling was mutual. "Lu, what's going on? Tell me about it."

"When we first got betrothed, he had this Muggle lover," she began hesitantly. "I knew about it, and he promised to break it off with her. And he actually did, within a week or two. But then—well, I guess a few weeks he found out that she was having a baby."

"He's sure it's his?"

"Positive," she said. "He feels the magic in it, even though it hasn't been born yet. And he can't leave her to raise a witch on her own, when she knows nothing of magic." There was a long silence while Lucretia wiped a tear from her eye. "I wish he weren't so noble about everything," she said finally.

"Fuck it," interjected Severus harshly. "There will be someone else for you. I assume your parents are going to look around again?"

"I don't want someone else," she grumbled. "Aside from being smart and kind and built like a god, he was bloody fantastic in the sack. How are they going to find anyone to replace him?"

~~SS~~

The weeks passed.

Severus got called to a couple more Death Eater 'parties' and had Aziz rustle up golems to replace the victims.

Lucretia grew more and more despondent. She half-heartedly tossed out more names of women she could match Severus up with for his first time, but the majority of their lunches for the next month or so were spent quietly. In the middle of May, she reported that her parents had found a new groom for her: Marshall Fawley.

"Isn't he…"

"Still at Hogwarts? Yes. Just finishing his seventh year, so he's six years younger than me." She shuddered with revulsion. "I mean, I'm sure he's perfectly nice. He's a Ravenclaw, so probably smart as hell. But how am I supposed to have anything in common with someone that much younger than me? Severus, my last year at Hogwarts, while the sorting hat was doing its thing, I looked at the firsties and all I could think was how _tiny_ they were. And he was one of them!"

She sighed deeply and buried her face in her hands.

"Well," said Severus, trying anxiously to think of silver linings, "At least you know you'll have a few more years to establish yourself as a healer before you take a break to have kids."

"Yeah," Lucretia replied miserably. "A few years, waiting for him to grow up. I know it won't matter when we're nearing seventy, but right now…damn it, he has a late birthday; we can't even be officially betrothed until July. I'm taken, and also not taken."

"So live a little," Severus smirked. "You said yourself that you'd miss the variety of partners, once the betrothal took hold."

"The thing is…well, when I was with Herman, I realized how much better sex is when you actually know the person. I'm not sure I could go back to picking up random wizards at bars." Lucretia paused to blow her nose, then glanced sideways at Severus. And then, suddenly, she looked at him as though she was just seeing him for the first time.

"Sev, hey. I know we were joking about how I could find you a witch to help you for your first time, teach you how to pleasure a woman. But…I mean, what if it were me?"

"You?" Severus gaped at her. "But Marshall…"

"Will not be my betrothed for six weeks. And _you_, Sev, are someone I know, whose company I enjoy, and someone whom I will absolutely _not_ fall in love with. Exactly what I need."

"I…well…I mean…" Severus meant to say no, but at that moment his eyes dropped from Lucretia's face and he saw her cleavage. "I guess so," he said.

"You live alone, don't you Sev? Because we're not doing anything at my place." Lucretia still lived with her parents.

"Technically, yes, but my mum does pop in now and again—completely without warning, as she doesn't trigger the wards."

"Hmmm." Lucretia thought a moment, tapping her lip with one finger. "You know, we could try the Leaky Cauldron—but I think we're likely to be seen there. I think we'd be more anonymous at the Hog's Head."

~~SS~~

And so it was, on a cold, wet night in early June, that Severus and Lucretia left work together and Apparated together to the front porch of the Hog's Head. They rushed inside—it was pouring in Hogsmeade, unlike the drizzle they'd encountered in London—but lingered a bit in the bar, talking about work over shots of firewhiskey. Eventually Lucretia took Severus by the hand and pulled him up the stairs and into a dingy room overlooking the rear alley.

"Lesson one," she announced as she locked the door. "Never go straight to fucking. Always talk to a witch before you take her to bed."

Severus nodded, not knowing what else to say.

"Lesson two," Lucretia continued. "Even when you get a witch in your bedroom, don't go straight to fucking. Start with a compliment first, then kissing." She stopped, saw where Severus was looking, and scowled. "And whatever you do, don't say 'Nice tits.' Try to tell a witch what she really wants to hear."

"I love your hair," Severus rasped. He wondered if it would sound too awkward if he cleared his throat, which was feeling unaccountably dry. Reaching out with one hand, he gently wound a strand around his finger. "The curl is natural, right?"

Lucretia sighed. "Bane of my existence. At least I've found a potion that mostly keeps it from frizzing."

"Don't apologize," Severus said softly. "It's beautiful. I've always loved women with curly hair." He smoothed his hand over her hair, then froze suddenly. "Merlin, I really have no clue how to do this."

Lucretia frowned. "You've never even kissed anyone before?"

Severus shook his head. "C'mon, Lu. Look at this face of mine. I wouldn't be anyone's first choice."

Lucretia scoffed. "Men with big noses have…certain advantages. And you have lovely hands—very talented at fine operations. I can't wait for you to touch me. Look, Sev, it's all pretty basic. Some parts of our bodies have more nerve endings than others, and we're going to stimulate those: fingers, lips, tongues, nipples, genitals. And while we could technically stimulate them with anything—it's easiest if we use body parts that are also sensitive. So: lips on lips. Tongues on lips. Fingers on nipples. Tongues on nipples. You get the point."

Severus blushed. "I've seen _Playwizard_ before. I do understand the basics."

"Humph," said Lucretia. "Look: let me touch you; tell me how it feels." She reached out her index finger and whispered it along Severus's upper lip. Then she brushed her finger over his lip again, this time a bit more firmly. Then again, more firmly still. "Which did you like best?"

"The first."

"Good. Now you do the same to me."

He complied. Her eyes fluttered closed with the first stroke of his finger, and her breathing became more ragged with each pass. "Good, Sev. Now do the same thing again—except with your lips." He bent to obey her. As close as he was, he could no longer see her face clearly, but he heard the quick intake of breath, felt the tension seep from her body as his lips brushed against hers.

"Good," she said, eyes still closed, after he pulled away. "Now let's try that again, with tongues." In response to Severus's first, gentle swipe of the tongue, Lucretia's mouth opened and her tongue met his. Severus enjoyed the touching of tongues so much (and Lucretia wasn't complaining) that he didn't count the number of touches, nor think much about how firmly his tongue was supposed to be pressing hers. His senses apprised him of how well his partner enjoyed each move, and if she liked something, he repeated it.

Eventually, Lucretia pulled her mouth from his, and he realized that he had somehow ended up pushing her against the wall; his hands were cradling her breasts, and he was thrusting his cock (now completely hard) against her pelvis. "Oh, God," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I should have asked—"

"It's OK, Sev," said Lucretia with a smile. "Breasts were next on the agenda, anyway." She shoved him away just enough that she could undo her robe and drop it to the floor, then unclasp her bra, leaving her in only a pair of silky pink panties. Severus gaped. He'd known her tits were more than a generous handful—he knew that from looking, even before he'd gotten his hands on her earlier—but nothing had prepared him for the reality of seeing a woman's breasts in real life.

Lu's voice eventually jarred him back to reality. "Robe off, Sev," she said. He fumbled with the fastenings—his eyes were still fixated on her nipples—and dropped his robe to the floor. She was eyeing the bulge in his boxers very appreciatively. "So, breasts," she said. "Look, why don't I just show you how I like them touched? And then you do it." She cupped her breasts in her hands and caressed them softly, working her way in towards the nipples. "Light to moderate touch on the sides of the breasts but use a bit more force on the nipples."

Severus watched her squeeze and pinch for a few seconds before stepping forward. "My turn?"

"Please," she said. "And don't just use your hands." She slipped past him, sat on the bed and beckoned him forward.

Severus touched, licked, sucked, and fondled her breasts for what seemed like forever, but also not long enough. He only broke away when he felt her hands pushing down his boxers and stroking his cock. "Oh, Merlin, Lu," he whispered. "I don't think I'm going to last long if you keep that up."

"That's the point," she said, continuing to stroke. "You're very observant, very good at figuring what makes me feel good. When I finally get you inside me, I want you to last a good long time. And the best way to do that is to make you come first. I promise I'll get you going again. Okay?"

"Yes. Yes!" Severus could already feel his balls tightening up. There was no way at this point she could keep him from coming, even if he said no. So he bent again, took her nipple into his mouth, and thrust his hips against her, reveling in the delicious friction of her hands and the taste of her breasts as he came all over her thigh.

Lucretia only gave him a short while to recover before grabbing her wand and using _Evanesco_ to vanish the cum that was splattered all over her. "Orgasm number one for you," she said cheerfully. "Today we both come twice. My turn next. Let me show you how I like to be touched down below."

Severus was a quick learner and it wasn't long before he was using his tongue and long, talented fingers to bring his friend to a satisfying orgasm. As she'd predicted, he was again ready for another round by this point—the feeling of her body pulsing around his fingers had guaranteed that.

"Sweet Merlin," panted Lucretia shakily. "Are you sure this is your first time? Well, let's get on to the main course—and don't you dare orgasm without bringing me over the top first!"

The next thing Severus knew, his cock was buried deep in Lucretia's hot, wet pussy, and the pleasure of each thrust was sending him close to sensory overload. How in the world was he supposed to concentrate on getting her to orgasm? How was he supposed to know how to pleasure her when he was be so obviously distracted? The answer came to him in a flash: Legilimency!

He probed gently into Lucretia's mind and discovered her wishing that she could have just a bit more stimulation on her clit. Reaching between their bodies seemed awkward and distracting, so he pulled enough control together to provide a gentle, flicking stimulation wandlessly and non-verbally. "Yes, yes, yes!" she exclaimed, and a few seconds later he felt her muscles tensing, and then the sudden clenching of her pussy around his cock as she groaned aloud. His orgasm followed quickly, sending waves of pleasure exploding through his body.

~~SS~~

They lay together on the bed, exhausted. "Too heavy?" asked Severus, who was on top.

"No, you're fine," replied Lucretia. She paused, then asked, "I know this is a total mood-killer, but is that Dumbledore I hear?"

Severus had been vaguely aware of the rumble of conversation coming from the room next door—even as consumed as he was with the delicious sensations of sex, the voices were loud enough that he couldn't completely ignore the noise coming from the other side of the wall. Now he paid more attention. "I think you're right. And that woman he's talking to—her voice sounds familiar too."

Lu wrinkled her brow. "There was a Hufflepuff—I think a year older than me? Scrawny little thing with glasses?"

"Or that Ravenclaw, what's her face, Mansfield?" suggested Severus. "Ooh, she's getting mad. Are you up for listening in on the lovers' spat?" He leaped to his feet and pulled on his robe.

"Jeez, Sev, who cares? Come back to bed for another round."

But Severus wasn't interested anymore. He hadn't cared much for Dumbledore, whom he thought an obsessively happy fool. If he had blackmail material on the Hogwarts Headmaster—consorting with a former student so much younger than him!—maybe he could get the leverage to be hired as a Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor after his apprenticeship was up later this year. He unlocked the door and slipped out, shutting it silently behind him. Tiptoeing down the hallway, he realized that no one would hear him; although the door to the room in question was slightly ajar, the woman (who, he realized at this point, was in fact the Hufflepuff Lucretia had mentioned earlier—Trelawney, if he remembered correctly) was now yelling at Dumbledore.

"How dare you question the veracity of divination?! It's a fine art, a…"

The voice cut off suddenly. And then Trelawney resumed in a voice that was clear, cold, and barely her own. "THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"

"Ey there, lad, what'cha doin'? Eavesdroppin'?" A searing pain shot through Severus's left ear; he realized that someone had caught a hold of his earlobe and was pulling him away from the door.

"No, no!" he replied angrily. "I just didn't remember which room—Let go!" He struggled to break free, aware that he'd missed part of what seemed to be a prophecy. But it was no use—Trelawney had stopped speaking, and his assailant—the barman—now had a firm grip on both his earlobe (using his left hand) and his robe (with the right). Severus flailed around, trying to break free, and accidentally crashed into the partially open door. Both he and the barman tumbled onto the floor in the room.

"Well, I never!" exclaimed Sibyll Trelawney, while Albus Dumbledore looked down his long nose at Severus, frowning.

~~SS~~

A few minutes later, the back door to the Hog's Head flew open and Severus Snape came tumbling out. He caught himself just in time to keep from falling on his face. He realized, once he came to a stop, that he was barefoot: it was hard not to notice, when he was standing in a puddle. As the wind kicked up and he felt the breeze swirling up under his robe and around his privates, he realized he'd also left his boxers upstairs. This was definitely not his finest hour: it was time to retreat. And so he spun on the spot, focusing on the place he knew best: Spinner's End. There was a faint pop, and the alley was empty.


	9. Trust

**Chapter Nine**

**Trust**

"Legilimency! During sex!" Aziz was floating near the ceiling with a gleeful expression on his face. Severus had told him all about his evening with Lucretia—he'd been stressing about it for days before it happened—and the djinn had listened quietly until the end. Severus had more important things on his mind, but that was not what Aziz fixated on at first. "That's brilliant! I never once thought of that, when I was still human."

"Do you think she'll forgive me for not coming back?" asked Severus seriously.

The djinn considered carefully. "Some women wouldn't, but she's using you the way you're using her. She'd only ditch you if you were lousy in bed, but considering that you gave her two orgasms, I suspect she'll be very forgiving. Apologize graciously and give her a gift." Aziz paused again, tapping his chin, and Severus waited, assuming that a suggestion for the recommended gift would be forthcoming. "It's the matter of this prophecy that really worries me. It's obviously linked to your fate in some fashion, but I can't figure out how."

"I won't be having a child by the end of July," Severus stated brusquely.

"No, no! Remember, you wished to be free of the Dark Lord. I told you it would be decades, right? So this child that's being born at the end of July obviously needs to grow up before your master is vanquished. But how can we best protect the child until it's powerful enough? I'm not getting any information on that."

Severus began pacing back and forth. At this point, the djinn had been serving him faithfully for almost five years, and he'd never seen him stumped like this before. Severus stared at the floor, striding as vigorously as he could in the small bedroom, for several minutes. Suddenly surprised by the quiet—he was used to Aziz's constant chatter at times like this—he looked up and saw Aziz curled up in a little ball, face crinkled into a rictus of pain.

"Aziz?"

The djinn opened his eyes. "I'm sorry, master, I really can't see what to do. Not that the future is ever really clear, but I can usually get flashes. It's as though I'm being blocked by some force of magic."

"It might not even be a genuine prophecy," Severus remarked wishfully.

"No, no, I'm quite sure it is. It's the one thing I _am_ sure about. Look—can you do without me for several hours? I think I must summon the Djinni Collective."

"The Djinni…what collective?"

"We aren't completely solitary beings, you know," Aziz said reproachfully. "We just try not to meet up too often, because that large of a collection of magic in one place can be quite dangerous. But this—this is worth it, of that I'm sure."

"Go then," said Severus gruffly. "I think I can manage."

~~SS~~

Severus did manage fairly well on his own. It ended up being not just a few hours, but two whole days until Aziz returned. The first day—Sunday—he spent down in his home lab, extracting the essences of yellow roses and sweet alyssum to make a custom fragrance for Lucretia; he knew these to be her favorite flowers, and it was much easier to slip her a bottle of perfume unobtrusively than an actual bouquet. The second day, Monday, he was back at work.

"Three more days until Mayday!" said his supervisor happily as he crushed dried nettles with a pestle. "I suppose I ought to get a bouquet for Aurelia. Roses, do you think?"

"If she likes them," Severus replied as he diced frog livers. "Not all witches do, or so I hear." He was surprised that he could reply this way without Aziz around to advise him. It was really, _really_ strange to not have Aziz around.

"Are you going to dance around a Maypole?" Elmore asked sarcastically.

"Who, me? Are you kidding?" Actually, Severus was planning to go to Prince Hall; the house elves had cajoled him into showing up for the evening. They were going to make him a meal and then put up a maypole…around which _they_ were going to dance. It wasn't a real holiday, but it was the only holiday he could get off, and evidently the Prince elves had been dancing around maypoles with their friends for centuries.

~~SS~~

At lunch time, Severus went up to the lunchroom and was happy to find Lucretia there. "Thrown out of the Hog's Head?" she teased. "Banished forever? Even I've never screwed up that badly." She passed him a bulky package wrapped in paper; he took it while simultaneously handing her the small crystal bottle he'd filled the day before. She unscrewed the lid and inhaled. "Severus, this smells heavenly. Is it only the perfume?"

"Also a mild aphrodisiac," he whispered. "In case you have trouble persuading Marshall, when the time comes." He looked down at the package at his lap, frowning: he couldn't figure out what it was.

"Don't open it here!" Lucretia warned. And with that, she launched into an account of a patient who had sliced their face open while trying to break a mirror with an Impediment Curse. The unfortunate witch hadn't realized that some mirrors would reflect spells the same way they reflected light.

Later, back in his office, Severus ripped open the brown paper enclosing the lumpy package and burst into laughter. Inside were the shoes he'd been wearing on Friday night (he'd had to wear his dress shoes to work) and a pair of black boxers.

~~SS~~

That evening, Aziz appeared in front of Severus as he sat at the rickety kitchen table eating his takeout pizza.

"I still don't understand," said the djinn.

"Nothing?" queried Severus, perplexed.

"No, we got an answer, we just don't understand how it can possibly work."

Severus wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked expectantly at Aziz. "Well?"

"The best way to protect the child is to tell Voldemort about the prophecy."

Severus stood up suddenly, knocking his chair to the ground. "That can't be! You don't know the Dark Lord; he'll kill it as soon as it's born!"

"No, he won't. I don't understand this fully, but the surge in dark magic when Voldemort tries to kill it will rebound on him somehow, rendering him powerless until the child is old enough."

"How can I trust you on this? How can I put what may be my only salvation in harm's way?" shouted Severus angrily.

Aziz bowed his head. "You've often not trusted me, master. You've often done what you've thought is right. How often has it turned out well?"

The young man bowed his head and considered. He remembered how wrong he'd been to trust Lucius over Aziz. He remembered how Aziz had been right that his uncle should have been the one to protect his mother. "You've always been right. I'll trust you on this, even though it makes absolutely no sense."

Sliding up his left sleeve, he used his right forefinger to press the snake-tongue on his Dark Mark. The vision of a drawing room imprinted in his brain; he turned on the spot, Apparating to the place he'd seen.

~~SS~~

He did not actually land in the drawing room, of course, but rather outside a tall, wooden gate in a hedge. A tortoiseshell cat looked him over carefully, then slipped under the hedge. A few seconds later, the gate swung open to reveal a walk leading through a traditional rose garden towards a modest country home.

Light spilled into the growing twilight as the door of the house swung open. Lord Voldemort stepped out, his red eyes flickering in annoyance. "I hope this is important, Severus. You interrupted the casting of a layered charm."

"I think it might be, my Lord," Severus replied. He looked at the ground, feigning humility, while he quickly pulled his liar's palace into place. "I overheard something that concerns you."

"Let me see," his master said, pulling Severus's chin up with one bony finger.

Voldemort was a strong Legilimens, but not a subtle one. Severus focused on the red eyes, pushing the memory of the prophecy at the forefront of his mind. He fixed the memories of his night with Lucretia just behind the prophecy, allowing them to intrude and intermix with the images of Dumbledore and Trelawney.

Voldemort released his chin and grimaced. "You were right. It was information worthy of an interruption. I wish you had told me sooner."

"I have never much believed in Divination, my lord. I took a class my third year at Hogwarts, then discarded it like so much drivel. I did not put any credence in it until today. But when I was talking to my friend …"

"The fair Lucretia, I suppose. Her father is one of us, and I'm sure she is sympathetic to our cause. If he'd listened to me, he would have betrothed her to you instead of that young buck, Fawley. Well, you were right to listen to her. Next time, report sooner."

"Yes, my lord. I will. Should I do anything else?"

"I will find out if any witches are due to deliver soon. Lucius should have easy access to that information. His wife is expecting a child soon; no doubt they visit the midwitchery office frequently."

"Yes, my lord."

"I will summon you again when I have more information. Fate has decreed that you will play a part in defending me from this threat."

"Yes, my lord."

~~SS~~

Severus enjoyed Mayday at Prince Hall; his mum and Uncle Ty came back for the occasion. "You really should settle down, Ty," Eileen said, after watching her brother prance around the maypole with the house-elves. "You'd be great with kids."

"Yes, the maypole is a fertility rite. We dance for Master Tiberius," croaked Mopsy, who was the oldest of the house-elves. "For Master and for Cottie."

Severus glanced over at the youngest house-elf and grimaced, realizing that she was, indeed, expecting a baby. No wonder the house-elves of various estates congregated on major holidays like this one. He'd never contemplated house-elf reproduction before; yuck!

"It's not the right time," said Ty. "Not while He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is terrorizing Britain."

"Soon," said Mopsy. "We dance for your wife-to-be, too." She darted a glance at Severus. "But not you, Master Severus. It is not your time."

~~SS~~

Days passed and turned into weeks, and Severus could not help but be reminded of fertility. He received a note from Lucius and Narcissa, announcing the birth of their son, Draco. Severus attending the naming ceremony a week later. Not long afterwards, Lucretia finalized her betrothal to Marshall Fawley. "He says we can wait two years to have children," she told Severus, and blushed. "It's dumb, Sev, but I actually can't wait to have children. I don't even love Marshall, and I want kids anyway." Severus sighed: he didn't know why anyone would have children when the Death Eaters were terrorizing Muggles and Muggle-lovers alike.

As July drew to a close, Severus's master, Elmore Greengrass, got more and more nervous. "Aurelia is getting huge," he said. "But still, two months to go. How much bigger is she going to get?"

Severus had taken to scanning the Births and Deaths section of the Daily Prophet very carefully. Nowadays it was usually more deaths than births, but you never knew. The first birth announced in the last part of July was Millicent Bulstrode, daughter of Herman and his Muggle wife, Catherine.

"Millicent's the one, Aziz!" said Severus. "That's who we have to protect. Oh, no. Lucretia!" He'd just noticed the note that Catherine Bulstrode had died in childbirth.

"Lucretia?" asked Aziz.

"I mean—you remember how crushed Lucretia was when Herman broke off their engagement? Well, he's available again. His wife died."

"Lucretia was never meant for Herman," responded the djinn sagely. "Millicent will have a part to play, but she's not the one."

"What makes you so sure?"

"The prophecy. The child must be born to those who have thrice defied the Dark Lord. Which means they have to be part of the resistance group."

Yes, Severus knew about the resistance group. On Midsummer Eve he'd been out with a group of Death Eaters who were about to begin torturing some Muggles (or, rather, golems resembling the Muggles, courtesy of Aziz) when four figures wrapped in cloaks Apparated into the living room and began firing curses. It had turned into a real firefight, and Severus had only barely escaped injury. There had been other sightings of the resistance fighters before and since then, though not when Severus was around. Voldemort, who had previously left the muggle-baiting to his followers, had started accompanying Death Eaters on raids to try to help take out the mysterious group.

"You don't think Herman's one of them?"

"Not likely. For one thing, the wording of the prophecy suggests that both of the child's parents would defy the Dark Lord, and I don't think a Muggle would qualify. Also, with Puddlemere in the playoffs, he's been on the field every night."

"True. But it's the 26th, and July is almost over."

"Just wait," remarked Aziz calmly.

~~SS~~

Severus did not have long to wait. On the thirtieth of July, he saw a birth announcement for Neville Longbottom, son of Frank and Alice Longbottom. Both Frank and Alice had been a few years ahead of him in Hogwarts; Alice was the same year as Lucretia, if he remembered correctly, though she'd been in Gryffindor. Frank had been a Gryff, too, though maybe a bit older? Severus hadn't paid much attention to the Gryffindors who weren't in his year. Yes, Frank and Alice were just the right sort to fight against the Dark Lord. Poor baby Neville: did he even know what was in store for him?

But the following day Severus was shocked to see yet another birth announcement in the Prophet. Harry James Potter had been born to James and Lily Potter. _James and Lily Potter!_ He'd known they were an item, but he'd been eager to forget James—and too busy to check in on the childhood friend who abandoned him.

Severus knew that technically the child of the prophecy could be either Neville Longbottom or Harry Potter. But the instant he saw the announcement, he just knew, and he buried his head in his hands.

"Master?"

"It's Lily's son, isn't it?"

"We don't know that for sure."

"You may not, but I do. Aziz, does it always feel like this—knowing something horrible in the future?"

"The feeling of dread, the disquiet, the urge to throw something out a window?" replied the djinn.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Yes. But let's not think about that. You'll be summoned tonight: you're not the only one who's been reading the Prophet. I want to make sure you're prepared."

~~SS~~

Aziz was right, as usual. Severus was summoned to a meeting at the same country home he'd been to previously. As it turned out, the house belonged to Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange; the Dark Lord, for some reason, seemed very fond of Bellatrix.

Both Lestranges were present at the meeting, plus Rodolphus's brother Rabastan. Lucius was there as well, as well as a man named Antonin Dolohov.

"Dolohov, you're our expert on prophecies," Voldemort began. "We have these three children, all born at the end of July: are they all equally likely to be the one?"

"No," the man said gruffly. "The Bulstrode girl is the daughter of a Muggle. Not a Muggleborn, witch, your lordship, but one without magic. That woman could not have defied you thrice."

"Who cares?!" cackled Bellatrix. "Just kill them all!"

"Hush, Bellatrix," said Rodolphus. "We may yet turn Bulstrode into a Death Eater. Killing his daughter won't help our cause. Dolohov is right; the girl is not the one."

"As for the other two," continued Dolohov, "It could be either. But I suspect it is the Longbottom boy—he's pureblood, and therefore more likely to be the most powerful."

"I will not kill a pureblood without cause," said Voldemort carefully. "His parents—do we know for sure that they are in the resistance?"

Lucius spoke up. "Aside from Dumbledore, we know for sure of the Weasleys, the Prewetts, Alastor Moody, and Hestia Jones. There are more we aren't sure of, though."

"I'm sure I've spotted my dear cousin Sirius," grinned Bellatrix. "And where Sirius is, rumor has it, Lupin and Potter are not far behind."

"It is Potter," Voldemort said decisively. "The boy is a half-blood?"

"He is, my lord."

"Then it is of no import if we kill him."

~~SS~~

When Severus returned home, the first thing he did was consult with Aziz. "He's going to kill the Potter boy! As soon as possible, I think. What shall I do?"

Aziz buried his head in his hands. "It's going to be hard, Severus."

"Anything, Aziz. You know I'll do anything to destroy that monster."

"You have to become a double agent. It's the only way."

"No, no, what? I can't possibly—"

"You are the best Occlumens I've ever trained. If anyone can do it, you can."

Severus grabbed his teacup off the table and threw it at the wall, where it shattered, spattering shards and tea everywhere. "You expect me to just go up to James Potter and tell him I'm on his side now? You think that will work? Because I sure don't."

"No, Severus. You need to go to Dumbledore."

"He won't believe me either. Aziz, you can't be right—"

"Dumbledore knows you used to love Lily. Tell him you still do. Play it up, Severus."

Severus picked up the saucer next, flinging it angrily against the wall near the shattered teacup. "I can't Aziz, I can't. I've only ever used real memories in my liar's palace. I can't fabricate new ones." He knew Dumbledore was a Legilimens, and a clever one at that.

"It's less a matter of creating new ones and more a matter of…hybridizing them. Combine the passion you felt with Lucretia with the fondness you felt for Lily. Find your most intense feelings and overlay them on top of the most mundane interactions you had with her. I know you can do it, master. Pretend it's only her you want to save."

And so it was that, a few hours later, Severus found himself on a cold, windy hilltop, making an unbreakable vow to obey Albus Dumbledore and keep his secrets.


	10. Reconciliation and Remorse

_Author's Note:__ In general, I'm trying to post once per week. This bonus chapter is brought to you by Martin Luther King Day. Go out and fight injustice, y'all._

_As one of my reviewers noted, I am trying very hard to keep this story canon compliant. As you know, Severus did not have an easy life in canon, so the story will continue to be very dark for some chapters to come. Things will ease up a bit in the wake of Voldemort's death, but don't expect Severus to find true peace until he hits his sixties. As Aziz predicted, it's going to be a long time._

_I promise you that he will find happiness in the end. Not in an instant, nor by magic, but in the only way true happiness can be found: by hard work, perseverance, and holding on to hope._

**Chapter Ten**

**Reconciliation and Remorse**

Severus was halfway through brewing a Dreamless Sleep potion when the owl arrived. He took the letter from it brusquely, then shooed it away. "I don't keep food in my potions lab," he growled. The owl took off in a huff, and Severus returned to crushing the aconite.

It was not until half an hour later, when the potion was simmering, that Severus remembered the missive he'd received. He'd assumed it had been from Master Greengrass—who was now on paternity leave, taking care of Aurelia after the premature birth of their daughter—but the loopy handwriting on the outside of the envelope belonged to Albus Dumbledore.

"Humbug," he groused.

After he opened and read the letter, however, a warm feeling suffused through his body. He'd been wondering what would happen after his internship ended (as it would, shortly after Master Greengrass returned from leave) and here, in his hands, was an unsolicited job offer.

_Dear Severus,_

_I've been wondering how we could best facilitate communication between us without arousing V's attention. With the recent retirement of Horace Slughorn, we now have two faculty openings here at Hogwarts for the upcoming schoolyear. Please apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position and tell V. that you've done so. Just know that the Potions position will be yours—you'd be the most qualified applicant._

_Albus Dumbledore_

~~SS~~

Voldemort was delighted to hear that Severus had applied for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. "Just think," he cackled. "You could be shaping every young wizard's perception of the Dark Arts for years to come."

When Severus, instead, landed the Potions position, he put on his best apologetic act for his master. "I'm sorry, Master, I did try. Potions is my art, but I do not feel that I can serve you as well in that capacity."

Voldemort waved one bony hand. "Nonsense, Severus. I've been hoping to get someone into Hogwarts to report on Dumbledore's moves, and you'll be set up quite nicely to do just that. I'm pleased to have such a talented wizard in my entourage."

~~SS~~

Severus had thought he'd be good at teaching potions. After all, he was a master brewer, having completed an apprenticeship under another master. Plus, he had years of Aziz's patient tutelage to draw on. Alas, not all of his students were as eager or as talented as he'd been.

In addition, he hadn't realized quite how much the sheer noise of Hogwarts affected him. As a student, he'd been able to seek out quiet nooks and crannies when he needed solitude—for example, he'd often taken both his breakfast and lunch "to go" and eaten down by the lake—but he was not allowed to do this as a professor. By the time he got to the end of each day, his head felt as though it were a bell that had been pounded repeatedly by a hammer. If it were his turn to do rounds in the evening, he would be in a smashingly terrible mood, and would often take it out on any curfew breakers he found. And God help anyone who ended up in detention with him!

Over time, with Aziz's patient guidance, he learned that if he shouted in the classroom, so would all of his students; but if he all but whispered, they would be quiet so they could hear him. He learned that if he instilled fear in them, they would pay better attention to what they were doing and would be less likely to melt their cauldrons. But he couldn't be as patient as Aziz was; not with the constant buzz of noise that tormented his brain. He felt like he was walking around with dozens of itchy mosquito bites.

After about six months, with Aziz's help, he had devised a pair of invisible ear coverings that would shut out a lot of ambient noise while still allowing him to hear conversations near him. He could wear these in the Great Hall at meals and other such occasions, and these helped immensely. But he needed to hear _all_ of the noise while teaching, and so he remained irritable—just a bit less so. He also learned that it was better to deduct copious amounts of points than to assign detentions. If someone did warrant a detention, he tended to foist them off on other staff members—Kettleburn, who frequently had manure to shovel, was a favorite. He did take some detentions himself, though: generally, the students who actually showed aptitude for potions and could therefore be conscripted into doing ingredient prep.

There were parts of teaching he did enjoy, though: primarily, the N.E.W.T.-level classes where all of the participants were both talented and eager to be there. Here, he felt he was in his element, and at the end of his first year, the N.E.W.T. students had the highest pass rate in decades. As for the lower-level students—well, there were fewer injuries in lab than Slughorn had had, and that had to be _something_ of a win.

But the best part of the day, as far as he was concerned, was when he could retreat to his quarters and just brew. He brewed for the Hogwarts infirmary; he brewed for Voldemort; and he brewed potions of his own devising. He was researching in any spare time he could find: mostly protective potions for the Order of the Phoenix or for Harry Potter. He loved the research associated with developing a new potion and wished he could do it full-time.

There was one nice thing about being at Hogwarts: Voldemort almost never called him to torment Muggles anymore. Leaving the grounds was something that even Voldemort understood he couldn't do frequently, so most of his assignments were for potions. Completed potions were often owled to Lucius Malfoy. Information on Dumbledore's movements (carefully vetted by Dumbledore himself, of course) was passed on to other Death Eaters at The Three Broomsticks; Voldemort then got Severus's information second-hand. In short, teaching at Hogwarts meant that Severus almost never had to see the Dark Lord face-to-face, something he greatly appreciated.

~~SS~~

In early July 1981, Severus called for his djinn. He'd been worried that the Dark Lord would call on him more during the summer, but no; Voldemort wanted him right where he was, keeping an eye on Albus Dumbledore. Severus had therefore spent his time at Hogwarts, reading about ancient protective spells. Unfortunately, none of them seemed appropriate for his purpose—protecting Harry Potter. The Potters had been hidden by a Fidelius Charm soon after Severus told Albus Dumbledore about Voldemort's choice. The Dark Lord had become more and more agitated at his inability to find the baby who might become his nemesis and was starting to resort to extraordinary measures to find him. So Severus and Aziz had been researching protection spells, for months, but usually ended up going down blind alleys. Now Severus realized that what he needed was additional, extra-focused power from Aziz.

"Aziz, I'm trying to formulate a wish. I know we need to keep Harry Potter alive until he can defeat the Dark Lord—should I just wish for that? Or should I re-word it?"

"Hmmm. You might use another wish later; maybe you could wish to find the right spell to keep him alive until he comes of age?"

"That sounds specific enough. Thanks! Aziz, I wish to find the right spell to keep Harry Potter alive until he comes of age." Both man and djinn closed their eyes, enjoying the thrum of power that surged through both of them as the wish took hold. Then they opened their eyes, looked at each other, and said in unison: "Blood Magic."

"I believe there's a book you might need at Prince Hall," Aziz added.

"All right, let's go!"

Severus sauntered lazily out of the castle and waved cheerfully at Pomona Sprout, who was deadheading roses. She was one of the few teachers who had been excited to have him return to Hogwarts, and he often sat by her at staff meetings. They often traded favors—he'd brew restorative potions for ailing plants, and she, in turn, would send him the best potions ingredients from her greenhouses. The other staff members thought he was a grump (which was probably true), but Pomona—who was exactly the same age as his grandmother, Bridget—was very vocal about telling her colleagues that he'd turned out pretty well, considering the family he'd come from.

Severus passed through the gates and slipped off the main road, walking along a track that led up a hill and into the woods. When he was out of sight, he pushed up his sleeve to reveal his charm bracelet, then touched the lion and flower charms together.

The ancient artifact always brought him directly into the grand entry hall of the Prince family estate and, furthermore, alerted the house elves to his arrival. Today, it was Mopsy who met him.

"How is Master Severus doing today? And how is Master Severus's djinn?"

Severus gaped at her for a while before asking, "How do you know about my djinn?"

"House elves is seeing everything, master, it is part of our magic. If Master Tiberius asks us directly if you is having a djinn, we must say yes, for he is head of the family. But otherwise—" here the little elf shrugged with a rueful smile—"it is your secret and we keeps it gladly."

Aziz popped into visibility and bowed deeply to Mopsy. "I am Aziz and I am grateful that we can speak. As one of the few on earth who understands house-elf magic deeply, I have the deepest respect for the matriarch of a great line. I honor you for your service to my master."

Mopsy blushed. "We is able to create elf-made wine for immortals, Aziz. Someday I will present you with a bottle."

Aziz doffed his cap to the elf. "That would be much appreciated, Lady Mopsy. My master is here to use the library, and he _has not eaten lunch yet._" Aziz spoke the last five words with disdain: he was constantly prodding Severus to eat. (In fact, the djinn often told Severus that following the strict Hogwarts schedule during the schoolyear was a boon to someone of his personality.)

Mopsy squeaked in delight and assured Severus that she would have a roast-beef sandwich brought to the library shortly. "With lemon biscuits and tea. We remembers your favorites, Master Severus."

There were, in fact, fifteen volumes on blood magic in the Prince family library. Severus started from the left side of the shelf, while Aziz started from the right. (Being somewhat ghostly, Aziz could not physically turn the pages; but he could use a levitating spell to turn them.) They worked through dinner (Cottie brought more sandwiches; she said it was the one meal they could eat without ruining the books) and on into the night. At last, Aziz told Severus to go to bed. He would re-read the books Severus had read, just in case he'd missed something, and they'd start fresh in the morning. So Severus went to the room that the house-elves had long ago designated as his, collapsed into bed fully clothed, and slept deeply.

The following morning, he was up at dawn, reading with Aziz. A few hours later, he found a spell that looked like it would work. "Aziz, I think this will work. But oh, God, the cost…"

Aziz read over his master's shoulder and inhaled sharply. "Bring this book to Dumbledore. It must be their own decision."

~~SS~~

Dumbledore was also clearly perturbed by the spell Severus had found, but he also felt that the Potters should be given the option. So he made an unauthorized Portkey (which was, Severus discovered, the only way the Potters could leave their house without being tracked) to bring both of the Potters to Hogwarts. Severus had hoped that Dumbledore alone would speak to James and Lily, but for some reason, the headmaster had asked Severus to come to the meeting—but to wait outside his office door until called. And since Severus had made an Unbreakable Vow to obey Dumbledore, he did as he was told.

~~SS~~

"We have discovered a spell that will be one hundred percent effective in preventing Voldemort from killing your son before he comes of age."

Severus stood on the staircase, his ear pressed against the wooden door to Dumbledore's office.

"Oh, Albus, that's great news!"

"It is a harsh spell. You may not feel that way when you've read it. But first, I want to introduce you to the man who's been my right hand when it comes to spell research."

Severus stood up straight just as the door opened with a flourish. Lily clapped her hands over her gaping mouth; James leaped out of his chair, an angry look on his face. "Dumbledore! Why should we trust this idiot? Do you know—"

"Hush," Albus Dumbledore commanded and, amazingly, James Potter complied. "Severus, come in and have a seat."

Severus obeyed, then fixed his nemesis with a withering glare. "James, I appreciate all the work you do on behalf of the order, but just to be clear, I don't inherently care about your safety. I work for Dumbledore for two reasons. Firstly, I want to bring down the master who marked me, bound me to him, without my desire or consent. And your son has been prophesied to be the one who will do that."

Lily shuddered, and he turned to her. "And secondly—Lily, do you remember that day when we were ten? When the gang of four jumped on me after school and were pounding my head against the pavement?"

She winced, closing her eyes, and nodded.

"And your dear wife, James, just a little pipsqueak herself, drew herself up to her full miniscule height and told them that only cowards fought four-on-one. That if they were _really_ men, they would pick one to beat me up. And while they squabbled over who would get the honor, I got away. Lily, I don't know if I truly owe you a life debt, but it's close. Believe me when I say I would die to keep you safe. And if not you, your son."

James's militant stance softened. "Sorry, Snape. Old habits die hard. Let's see what you've got."

"You're not going to like it," Severus whispered, and extended the book, open to the correct page, for their perusal.

He was right. They didn't like it, not at first. It was a spell designed to keep a ruler alive during times of war. Two who shared ties of blood with the ruler would die immediately, and the sealing of the spell upon the recipient would ensure safety. In general, the protection would last for seven years, but the force of the spell could be maintained longer if a third person would lend their life force. The third person would die at the end of an additional nine years, and the protection would end for good.

"When I joined the Order of the Phoenix, I pledged my life for the safety of wizarding Britain," said James staunchly. Severus had never liked the man, but suddenly he was overcome with a rush of emotion. _Two lives, freely given…_

"I made the same pledge," added Lily. "And from the moment Harry was born, I knew I would die for him."

"And I will be the third," said Severus. "Which will bring him to his coming-of-age."

James Potter reached out his hand and Severus clasped it. The two former adversaries looked at each other, fighting back the tears.

"I misjudged you, Snape," whispered James. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Severus responded. "I know I was a jerk."

They laughed uneasily.

"No, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "I'm sorry, but it can't be you. There is a different role for you to play."

"Albus!" shouted Severus angrily. "It has to be! Who else could be lost but not mourned?"

A tear trickled from the headmaster's eye. "I'm sorry that you feel you will not be mourned. Severus, I've done some Seeing, and it really can't be you. There are two bindings on you that will keep you from dying at the right time."

"TWO?"

"First, the Dark Mark. You cannot directly do anything to fight against Voldemort."

"Damn," Severus groaned. "You're right."

"The second binding I do not understand. It's a force I haven't seen before. One that binds you to living until Voldemort is destroyed. Whoever chooses to be the third must die before Harry faces Voldemort."

_The wish. The wish he'd made with Aziz. Damn that wish._ It wasn't the most recent wish he'd made, but rather the one that he'd made a few years ago, after becoming a Death Eater.

"You said I had a different role to play."

"We still need a Sealer. The Sealer must be present when the first two die. That will be hard, because it means that the Sealer must be present when Voldemort is."

"No. God, no."

"The Sealer must also be present when the third dies."

"Who will be the third, then?"

"When the time comes, you will know."

James stepped forward. "Stuck in my house, with nothing better to do, I've been doing some Seeing of my own. I know you don't believe in Divination; I barely believe it myself. But I saw my son, growing to adulthood. Will you watch over him for me, Snape?"

Severus nodded. "I'll try. But you know, we all will. All of us in the Order."

James continued, "Like his dad, he also marries a redhead. Will you keep her safe as well?" Severus probed James's mind and found an image: red hair, freckles, mischievous brown eyes.

"I will."

James smirked at Snape. "I won't ask for an Unbreakable Vow. It would die with me, for one thing."

Severus reached into a pocket of his robes and brought out a pocketknife. He flicked it open and used it to nick his index finger. "On my blood I swear."

James took the pocketknife from Severus and nicked his ring finger. "My blood, and the blood of my family."

They pressed the wounds together and the shock of binding shuddered through them.

"Merlin," gasped James. "We should have reconciled a long time ago. That's real power, there." He paused, then continued: "And Lily was right. Four-on-one or three-on-one makes no difference. I was a coward. Will you forgive me?"

Severus raised his bloody finger. "What do you think this is, idiot?"


	11. Death and Life

**Chapter Eleven**

**Death and Life**

Severus could not help but admire the stalwart way James and Lily prepared for their death. Though he wasn't present, he overheard them talking about the letters they had written their son to tell him how much they loved him. Poppy told him about witnessing their will, how they'd made sure that Harry was listed as the beneficiary on all of their accounts. What Severus was most cognizant of were the hours they spent arguing with him and Dumbledore about the correct runes to be used. (The book contained very precise wording and descriptions of wand movements for sealing the spell, but was very vague about the runes needed to set up the perimeter: the exact runes to be used should tell a story about the relationship of the sacrificed ones to the protected, and could be further customized to target specific protections.)

"You'll brew the potion, of course, Severus," Lily said the night they'd finalized the runes. "No one could do it better."

"Hey!" squawked Albus Dumbledore, who was currently sitting on the floor playing blocks with Harry. "I'll have you know that I was also once a master potioneer!"

Severus didn't know what to think of little Harry. He was obviously bright and curious (which meant that he was always getting into trouble). He was also extremely affectionate, doling out hugs and kisses left and right—including to Severus himself. His response was usually to pat the little boy awkwardly on his head.

Tonight he excused himself, escaping before Harry could hug his leg, and fled to his dungeon to create the necessary potion.

~~SS~~

Potion, runes, and charms. Those three elements combined were what were going to create such powerful protection. Severus wasn't sure how anyone could protect against the Dark Lord: he'd seen some highly talented, powerful wizards crumbling under the force of his master's assault. This was their one chance to succeed.

James had surprised Severus by telling him that Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper. That weakling! He passed the information on to Bellatrix, and Bellatrix put pressure on the little rat. Once the secret location was revealed, Voldemort rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Halloween is the best night for such big magic."

Severus told James and Lily the news in person.

"It's the best night for us to do big magic, too," Lily said in a quavering voice before burying her face against James's shoulder.

~~SS~~

Severus had told Voldemort that there was nothing he would like more than to bring down his childhood nemesis. He'd put the memory of James flipping him upside-down after their O.W.L.s into his liar's palace and the Dark Lord, probing his thoughts, eagerly agreed that Severus should be the one to accompany him on the mission.

Severus held his wand at the ready as they approached the modest home in Godric's Hollow. "I'm at your back, my Lord. My wand will ever be at the ready."

Voldemort's only response was to cackle as he pushed open the gate. This was good, because Severus wasn't sure he'd have the strength to keep up his Occlumency tonight.

Severus's question as to whom the third protector would be was answered as soon as they approached the door. Once they'd stepped over the first circle of runes, he'd flicked his wand to activate the outside perimeter, and he saw the name written there. _Albus Dumbledore._ That old fool! How could he consign himself to an early death? How could they ever defeat the Dark Lord without him? There was no way this could possibly work…

Nonetheless, he flicked his wand again at the runes that ran around the doorway and along the basement of the house, then stepped into the entry in the wake of his master. James was there, standing defiantly before Lord Voldemort, wand at the ready. "You will have to get past me first," he stated confidently, then yelled: "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him!" He paused and mumbled under his breath, andSeverus only knew what he was saying because he knew the spell: _Ego dabo pro te animam meam. _Then James raised his left hand in a salute, still holding his wand out in the right hand. Severus saluted in return, flicking his wand to activate the first protective sacrifice.

"Go! Run! I'll hold him off—" James yelled.

"Avada Kedavra!" shouted Voldemort, and James crumpled in a flash of green light. The Dark Lord was giddy with glee, or else he would have noticed what Severus felt—a shudder of magic rippling through the house.

Severus stood transfixed by the body of his former adversary while his master trotted up the stairs. "I know you liked the lady, Severus; you needn't come for this part," the Dark Lord said. But Severus roused himself and followed behind.

Lily was holding Harry in her arms, chest to chest. Severus wondered if Voldemort knew of the runes that had been inscribed onto the sleeper Harry was wearing, if he could smell the potions that coated the toddler's body.

"Give him here," Voldemort said. "I'm not here for you."

Lily looked at the floor, and Snape could see her lips moving. _Ego dabo pro te animam meam._ He had to do more than a wand flick now. It was hard to move through the complicated pattern without Voldemort noticing, but he did it anyway. Lily provided the distraction.

"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I'll do anything!"

"Stand aside. Stand aside girl!" Voldemort had his wand in one hand, a silver bracelet in another. What was he going to do with that?

Lily turned, put Harry down in his crib, and stood up straight and tall, wand in hand.

"You will never have my son," she said resolutely.

There was a flash of green light and an explosion.

~~SS~~

Severus opened his eyes. A baby was crying weakly in the distance. He pulled himself to his feet: he must have been knocked unconscious and fallen into the hallway. Light and cold air streamed from the room in front of him. There was a gigantic hole in the wall and ceiling; two bodies lay on the floor. He ran to Lily first, felt for a pulse, and gathered her lifeless body into his arms as he cried uncontrollably. He should have found another way—after what she had done for him, there should have been another way.

The other body, he saw with surprise, was Voldemort's. He put Lily down, checked again for a pulse: nothing. But Voldemort couldn't possibly be dead, because Severus could feel the binding power in his Dark Mark, still sluggishly active. Well, Voldemort might not be dead, but he was certainly weakened. Perhaps enough that he would not return until Harry was grown.

"Do you know what you've cost me?" Severus growled at the crying boy. But Harry did not see him, only continued to call for his mother. Severus sighed, then, and performed the final step in the protection spell. A huge tremor, seemingly centered on Harry, rocked the house.

"Should I just leave you here?" asked Severus of the desperate child. He remembered, then, that Dumbledore had made plans for the boy's care (though he hadn't asked too much about what they were). And indeed, he heard the rumble of Sirius Black's magically enhanced motorbike in the distance…He thought of the front gates of Hogwarts and turned on the spot. And then Harry was by himself in the partially-destroyed house.

_I know, it's a short chapter this week. I'm sorry. _

_For those who want to know when things get better for poor Severus, here's a look ahead at my plan. This story will have 30 chapters total + epilogue; you just read Chapter 11. The next chapter will cover the transition years as Harry grows up, followed by 9 chapters written in parallel with the books. The battle of Hogwarts is in Chapter 21, and Severus hits rock bottom in Chapter 22. (Yes, he can get lower than he is now.) But things turn around for our hero in Chapter 23, as he finds two people who are important to him, and in Chapter 25, Severus finally realizes that he is in love. His love is unrequited for several years, but is finally returned in Chapter 27._

_Chapters 12-21 are still in progress, but I have completely written Chapters 22-25. So when we get to the good stuff, it will come quickly. _

_BTW, I'm trying to also make this compliant with Cursed Child, which is a daunting task!_


	12. Trapped

_My longest chapter yet. I thought of splitting it in two, as there is a natural break point in the middle, but decided to let you have the whole thing this week. Next chapter will be "Harry at Hogwarts."_

**Chapter Twelve**

**Trapped**

"He's dead, Aziz, but not dead," Severus told Aziz once he got back to his quarters.

"Let me see," the djinn replied, motioning at his master's left arm.

Severus pushed up his sleeve, showing the now-faded Dark Mark. "What does this mean?"

Aziz probed the mark with his finger. "You're right. His body is gone—the mark used to be linked to whichever location he was in, but now the binding is tied to a few different locations. I think they're all here in Britain, though they might be just across the channel." The djinn tapped his chin thoughtfully. "It's uncanny. I've never seen anything like it. If he'd made a Horcrux, I'd feel the binding to the object. But you've got magical links going south—maybe towards London—and southwest and south-south-east and…well, something fairly local. I really don't understand."

"Tell me, Aziz, what is a Horcrux?"

The djinn sighed. "Dark Magic of the highest degree. It's basically a way to store a part of your soul in an object. Then, if your body dies, part of your soul still survives. If you can find a new body to inhabit—through possession, for example—you can continue to work evil in the world."

Severus paced around his sitting room, lost in thought. "An object that holds your soul and makes you immortal…Aziz, I have to ask—is your lamp a Horcrux for you?"

Aziz smiled. "No! But you're on the right track. I suppose that, for the first time ever, I will tell a master my history. It has never been necessary before," the djinn remarked. "A long time ago, in what is now Iran, a king had many sons, all of whom were powerful mages. The second son, Ardashir, was ambitious, and by the time his father died, he had gained control of the army. His elder brother, Shapur—who should rightfully have been king—fled for his own safety, disguised as a shepherd. Shapur found his way to an enclave of mages in Salalah, and there he purposed to spend the rest of his life in peace."

Aziz looked over at his master's raised eyebrow and commented, "It is on the Arabian peninsula, on the coast of the Arabian Sea. Bring down the atlas and I will show you while I tell my story."

Severus obeyed, pulling a large, worn book off his bookshelf and flipping through the pages while Aziz continued. "I was one of the mages there, and Shapur and I became friends. We explored many arcane magics—dabbling in potions, creating new charms. But then word reached us that Ardashir had found a way to become immortal. He had made what was the first Horcrux. Look, master, here is Salalah. That part of the world is not all sand dunes, you know. It is very beautiful and green during monsoon season. And it was always an important port."

"So this Ardashir made a Horcrux."

"And we knew that would make him a potent force for evil. So, too, would be anyone to whom he taught the secret of Horcruxes. You cannot be anything but evil after making a Horcrux, because you split your soul through murder."

"But people can change," Severus said. "I think my father did, at the end."

Aziz shook his head vigorously. "You don't understand. If you really change—through the expression of remorse, through attempting reconciliation, and all that—your soul heals and the Horcrux is destroyed. You cannot be good and still have a Horcrux."

"Oh," whispered Severus, touching Aziz's lamp where it hung on its chain. "Now I see! This is like a Horcrux but—but you didn't split your soul! It's your whole soul in there! And you gave up your body…"

"It was done by shedding our bodies permanently," Aziz added, nodding. "There is now an immortal force for good to fight against the immortal force for evil represented by those who make Horcruxes."

"The Djinni Collective."

"Yes, the Collective. A full half of the Salalah enclave chose to become djinni. The other half were our first masters, and they made sure we were well distributed throughout the world."

"Ardashir's Horcrux was destroyed?"

"Yes, by Shapur and his master. My first master—Samir—and I led the distraction." Suddenly, the djinn broke out in great whoops of laughter. "Oh, this is so ironic! All these years later, who could have known?"

Severus stood, tapping his foot, until Aziz's guffaws subsided. "Care to explain?"

"Ardashir was quite a conqueror. After he'd consolidated the local area under his rulership, Samir convinced him that he should head into Roman territory—away from where the Horcrux was hidden, you see. And there he battled the man who was the Roman Emperor at the time. Emperor Alexander Severus, the last of the Severan emperors."

Severus grinned despite himself. "Who won?"

"Neither, truthfully. Both went back to their respective capital cities telling stories of triumph, but no territory was gained on either side. For Ardashir, though, the damage was done. Though he didn't know it, his Horcrux had been destroyed. He died of dysentery a few years later. Now get to bed, master: you look exhausted. Maybe tomorrow we can figure out how _this_ Severus will defeat an evil, ambitious mage."

~~SS~~

Severus slept fitfully all night, plagued by strange dreams: Voldemort, clad in a toga, tiptoeing out of a house holding baby Harry; Lily, standing resolutely with wand raised, facing off against a djinn with a devil's head; and Death Eaters searching for the bracelet that Voldemort had been holding.

He woke up with a sudden realization. "Aziz, I think he was trying to make a Horcrux! He was holding his wand in his right hand, but for some reason he had a bracelet in his left. I was so fixated on casting the spell that I didn't think much of it—only thought it was strange. You'd use something like that for a Horcrux, right?"

"You use something that isn't easily destroyed, so a bracelet would work. He was trying, but did he succeed?" the djinn asked thoughtfully. "Think back. Oh, if only you had a Pensieve—"

"Dumbledore does," Severus interjected. "I'll see if I can borrow it."

Of course, Severus couldn't just ask Dumbledore for a Pensieve; the old codger wanted to talk about the night before in gory detail. The old wizard's initial examination had suggested that the spell was in force, but he thought that quizzing Severus on every last wand flick might help convince him of that fact.

"Can't we just look at the whole thing in your Pensieve?" growled Severus. He was glad when Dumbledore agreed.

~~SS~~

"Yes, yes, perfect."

It was almost breakfast time, but Dumbledore had been insistent on viewing Severus's recollections immediately. As soon as Albus had passed through the gate, he'd paused the memory so he could rush around the entire house, examining the runes.

"You did well, Severus. What are you looking at there?"

Severus had been examining Voldemort's left hand, looking at the bracelet clutched therein. It was relatively plain; a band of gold about an inch wide with no decoration other than runes written on it—though these were obviously not original, as they were inscribed in blood. Voldemort's, no doubt.

"I was looking at his wrist to see if he'd marked himself. Which he hadn't, by the way."

"Hmmm," replied Dumbledore absentmindedly. "Let's see the next phase of the spell."

They entered the house and watched Voldemort facing off with James Potter. Dumbledore focused on Severus's movements first, then momentarily paused the memory again to examine the runes. Severus, meanwhile, focused his attention on his erstwhile master. Voldemort's attention was fully engaged with James Potter; he neither made unexpected wand motions nor paid attention to the bracelet he was holding.

Dumbledore came and stood next to him. "I feel like I should rewatch that part just to make sure, but…I don't think I can watch James dying again."

"You'll notice I'm facing away from him," Severus whispered. "I'll do the same for Lily. It was hard enough going through this once."

"You don't have to come with me," admonished the older wizard.

"I think I do."

Upstairs, Severus couldn't bear to look at Lily more than necessary, so he stood in front of her, as though to shield her from the Dark Lord. Dumbledore was examining the other Severus's every move, which left the real Severus free to watch his master more carefully.

As Lily begged him not to harm her son, Voldemort brought his hands together, whispering under his breath. _The idiot_, thought Severus grumpily. _He ought to be able to do any spell non-verbally._ He heard the rustle of Lily turning to put Harry in the crib, moved out of the way so he could watch both and—yes. He was holding the bracelet up as well as his wand. And his wand was pointed not at Lily, but at Harry. Why didn't he just kill Lily first to get a clear shot?

The green light shot out; it should have just missed Lily and hit the top of Harry's head. But a clear golden bubble of energy burst out of Lily's body and impacted the spell, sending it ricocheting back towards Voldemort. The bubble kept expanding, knocking Severus's doppelganger out into the hallway, pushing out the back wall of the room…

…and they were back in Dumbledore's office.

"Wait, that's not the end of it!" Severus complained.

"No, no, of course not. But you got knocked unconscious, right? The next part is a different memory. Give it here; you don't have to come with me."

"Like hell I don't," grumbled Severus as he pulled the silvery strand from his head and deposited it into the Pensieve.

They were in the room again. Lily was motionless on the floor, as was Voldemort. Dumbledore was once again obsessed with Other Severus's wand flicks, which gave Severus just enough time to note the bracelet in the corner. He picked it up surreptitiously and glanced it over. Some of the bloody runes were smudged, but otherwise it was just a bracelet.

"Revelio Horcrux," whispered a tiny voice in his ear. Severus had almost forgotten that Aziz had come along for the ride this time. (Aziz's lamp had been left at Hogwarts on Halloween, just in case. This was the first time Aziz had seen the proceedings.)

"Definitely not a Horcrux," whispered Aziz to Severus. But Severus was not convinced. Something was tying Voldemort to this earth and a Horcrux was the only explanation.

~~SS~~

"What's going to happen with the body?" Severus asked Dumbledore over breakfast.

Dumbledore washed a bite of toast down with tea before replying, "Voldemort? Or the Potters?"

"The Dark Lord, of course. I assume the Potters have someone to bury them—parents or grandparents or whoever." Severus, who for some reason was not at all hungry, poked grumpily at a piece of bacon.

"According to the Muggle news, the police took his body away for examination. If no one claims it—and I suspect no one will—then it will be buried in a pauper's grave. He was an orphan."

"And Harry? Will he go to his grandparents?"

"They're all dead—the Potters of dragon pox, the Evanses in a car crash." Dumbledore shrugged. "He'll go to family, though. Petunia—"

"Tuney?!" Severus roared. "You have got to be kidding me—she's the…"

"Only living relative he has," Dumbledore interjected mildly. "He'll be raised with a cousin who's about his age, away from the fawning and accolades he'll get in the wizarding world."

"He'll be abused!" Severus shouted, causing all of the students in the Great Hall to look up from their food and conversations. He didn't wait for Dumbledore's response; he stomped out of the hall.

~~SS~~

Severus found out later that night that Harry had been delivered to Petunia and her husband. He was under no illusion that Tuney would treat the boy well—she hadn't treated her own sister well! But he could fix that.

After classes finished the following day, Severus stalked down the lawn and out of the gates. He'd bribed Minerva with some very fine whiskey, and she'd told him the location of the village where Harry had been brought. After removing his robes (which left him in jeans and an Iron Maiden t-shirt), he thought of the village called Little Whinging and turned on the spot.

He appeared in a narrow alley bordered by brick walls. Closing his eyes, he sent out his magical feelers as Aziz had taught him, searching for a spell of protection. And—yes, there it was. Following the trail, he left the alley and turned left, walking down a street of completely indistinguishable, boring houses. As he approached Number Four, Privet Drive, he heard the unmistakable signs of an argument. Nearing the front door, he could finally make out what Petunia was saying: "I don't care who he is—he deserves to be in an orphanage!"

"Your own nephew?" This was a male voice—Severus assumed it was Petunia's husband.

"You don't understand. He's a freak! One of THEM!"

Severus rang the bell several times with one hand while knocking with the other. A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing Petunia, who was a skinny and horse-faced as ever.

"Who do you think you are, you impatient—Severus?"

Severus squeezed past her and shut the door with a flick of his wand. "We are going to talk."

"I have nothing to say. Get out." Petunia reached for the doorknob, but Severus slid in front of it and pointed his wand menacingly.

"I said we were going to talk, and that's what you're going to do. You _and_ your husband. Where is he?"

Petunia stomped down the short hall leading into the sitting room. "Vernon, this _freak_ is threatening us. Punch him out."

Severus smirked as he flicked his wand at Petunia's fat husband, turning him into a pig. He gave Petunia a full thirty seconds to shriek loudly, then flicked his wand again to undo the spell.

"HOW DARE YOU?!" sputtered the Muggle indignantly.

Severus spoke in a quiet, menacing voice. "Dumbledore has decreed that you will take Harry, and so you shall. Did you like being a pig, sir? I hope so. Because I am about to cast a spell on your house that will make sure neither of you ever lay a hand on that child. That you will make sure he's fed and clothed. You will stand in place of his parents until he comes of age. Because if you fail to do that, you will both turn into pigs. Do you understand?"

"You won't get away with it," snarled Petunia venomously. "You know if another wizard comes by they'll end the spell, because you aren't allowed to do magic around normal folks."

"It's a protection spell," said Severus arrogantly. "Your sister died putting a protection spell on Harry. They won't know the difference."

Petunia was fuming; Mr. Dursley's face was purple with rage. "Fine," they both growled.

Severus smiled what he hoped was his most evil-looking smile and waved his wand around. A few flashes of light; a slight shaking of the house—he knew what he'd experienced a few days before, and he did his best to replicate it for the Dursleys. There was, of course, no spell that would do what he'd threatened, but _they_ didn't know that.

As he turned to leave the house, he heard the padding of little feet. Little Harry entered the room holding a block in each hand and ran to him. "Sevus! Sevus pway wif bwocks?"

Severus knelt and gave the toddler a quick hug. "Gotta go, little fellow. I'll see you when you're grown up. Be a good boy for Uncle Severus, will you?"

Harry nodded. "I good boy."

~~SS~~

So now Harry was safe—sort of, anyway. It would be sixteen years before he came of age, and Severus could enjoy the time between now and then. Or so he thought. There was the small matter of not wanting to leave Dumbledore in the lurch during the middle of the school year, but at least there was light at the end of the tunnel…

"I can't wait until I can quit this damn job," he said to Aziz. "Eight months to go."

"No, no, no," said the djinn quietly. "You're going to need to stay."

"FUCK!" growled Severus. "You're kidding me."

"I can't explain it," Aziz replied, shrugging. "I just feel like we're going to be at Hogwarts for a while yet."

~~SS~~

Two weeks later, a screech owl landed next to Severus's breakfast plate and extended its leg, revealing a scroll sealed with an official Ministry seal.

_Damn._

He'd heard that Lucius had been charged for crimes committed as a Death Eater, and this was probably something of the sort. Scowling, he broke the seal and unrolled the parchment.

_Severus Snape:_

_You have been charged with committing the following crimes:_

_Murder of Muggles_

_Murder of a Wizard_

_Torturing a Wizard_

_Wanton destruction of property_

_Your hearing will occur in Courtroom Ten, Ministry of Magic, on December 1__st__, 1981 at 10 am. Present yourself at the front desk no later than 8:30 am to fill out pre-trial paperwork._

Severus, who was sitting next to Dumbledore, saw the older wizard looking at him quizzically, so he handed over the scroll. Albus perused it, frowning. "I'll get someone to cover your classes. Do you want a barrister? I can find you one. And I will certainly testify on your behalf."

"Thanks. Your testimony will definitely help. Let me think about the barrister."

After breakfast, Severus consulted Aziz while pulling ingredients out of the storeroom for his first class.

"No, no barrister," Aziz said. "Lucius used one and everyone says it made him look guilty. They'll give you Veritaserum."

"Should I tell them I relocated the Muggles?"

"No, no. Those poor people aren't safe yet. Just go with the flow, tell as much of the truth as you can under Veritaserum. It's no different than building a liar's palace for Occlumency. You'll do fine. Remember, I sense us being at Hogwarts for many years—you won't go to Azkaban."

~~SS~~

"Severus Tobias Snape. You are charged with telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Will you willingly drink the Veritaserum before you?"

"I will."

Severus was sitting in the center of what felt more like an arena than a courtroom. His chair had a high back and shackles were attached to the arms and the legs—though, luckily, the powers-that-be hadn't felt him dangerous enough to warrant restraint. Severus looked to his left, where Albus and Minerva were sitting on the witness bench. Aziz's lamp had been left in his desk drawer at Hogwarts. He always felt a little out of sorts when his djinn's presence was not nearby, but today he felt worse. At least, with Albus and Minerva both present, he wasn't completely alone.

Severus clenched his teeth, reached to the small side table, and picked up the crystal vial set there. He uncorked it and sniffed—Veritaserum was a very easy potion to mess up, and results had been known to be fatal—and breathed a sigh of relief when the scent seemed acceptable.

"Drink up; Greengrass brewed it, so it's perfectly all right," commented one of the Wizengamot (Hopkirk, if Severus remembered correctly). Severus gulped the potion, noting the flavors of bergamot and sage. He was glad that his former master was still trusted by the Ministry.

"Severus Tobias Snape. You have been charged with the murder of wizard Adam Bones. Did you kill Adam or participate in his murder?" The prosecutor today was Warlock Tiberius Ogden, whom Severus mostly remembered as an O.W.L. examiner.

"I did not."

"Have you ever killed any wizard or witch?"

"I have not."

"Did you torture Adam Bones or any other wizard or witch?"

"I did not."

"You have also been charged with the murder of the following Muggles: Henry Chapman; Cordelia Chapman; Sarah Chapman; Simon Holmes; Emily Holmes; and Allan Payne. Did you kill, or participate in the killing, of any of these Muggles?"

"I did not."

"Have you ever killed any Muggle?"

"Yes. My father, Tobias Snape."

Loud murmurs filled the chamber as Wizengamot members turned to consult with each other. Dumbledore had somehow managed to make this a closed hearing, and Severus was infinitely glad that there were no press members taking notes. (Rita Skeeter had written a rather horrible column about Lucius's trial.)

"You admit your guilt in his murder?"

"I am responsible for his death, but I acted in self-defense. I don't think of it as murder."

"Explain."

"My father routinely beat me. He hurt my mother, Eileen Prince Snape, even worse. Minerva McGonagall can testify that she helped my mother escape our home and the extent of her injuries at the time."

Albus Dumbledore was the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, but due to his connections, he'd yielded the presiding chair to Griselda Marchbanks. The tiny old witch stood up now and banged her gavel. "Defendant, move to the witness bench. Minerva McGonagall, please take the floor."

Minerva sat down and questioning began, but Severus couldn't listen. Albus had nudged him gently with his elbow and was now whispering: "Huh. You really didn't kill anyone."

"I told you I didn't, old man. I only made it look like I did. Why didn't you believe me?" Severus looked at the frown on his supervisor's face and grinned. "I see. You don't trust anyone you can't use Legilimency on."

He turned his attention back to the trial. Minerva was telling the court about the bruises she'd seen around Eileen's neck, of the Secret-Kept cottage and how Eileen refused to leave it for more than a few minutes until after her husband died. After she concluded her testimony, there was more whispering amongst the Wizengamot. Finally, Marchbanks thanked her for her time.

"Severus Tobias Snape, return to the floor."

Severus sat down in the chair again and looked Tiberius Ogden straight in the eye.

"Your mother was out of the house. She was not in mortal danger when you killed your father," Ogden stated confidently.

"When I visited her over Christmas, she was talking about going back to him," Severus replied. "She was, and still is, a very loyal witch. But I knew him. I knew if he ever saw her again, he would hurt her even more to punish her for leaving."

"But you, yourself, were not in mortal danger. You were at Hogwarts."

"I went back to confront him about my mother. He picked up a piece of firewood and swung it at my head," Severus countered. "Is that mortal danger? I don't know. It's a physical attack. A hit to the head can do serious damage, and it was a hefty piece of wood."

"Did you kill him as a Death Eater?"

"I was…provisional, sir. You were given a temporary mark and needed to kill to make it permanent. Death Eaters accompanied me."

"So it wasn't a one-on-one fight, then."

"They were watching, not confronting, when he swung the stick I was afraid to go alone. I know you think that all Death Eaters are twisted people who revel in killing and torture, but some of us…some of us were alone and afraid, and just wanted back-up for a scary situation."

A loud buzz of conversation echoed through the chamber. After a few minutes, Marchbanks banged the gavel to bring the court back to order. "Please continue the questioning, Tiberius. We only have twenty minutes left on the Veritaserum, and I'd rather not bring out another dose."

"Did you participate in wanton destruction of property?"

"I did," Severus admitted. "It was necessary to make the other Death Eaters think I was still one of them. I…I was an official Death Eater for about thirty seconds before I wished I were not one. I have always felt that way since. Dumbledore will back me up on this."

Marchbanks indicated for Dumbledore to take his place on the stand, and Severus headed to the witness box to sit with Minerva. "You're doing fine, Severus," she whispered as Albus was sworn in. (Severus noted that no one asked Dumbledore to take Veritaserum, even though the old codger was slippery as an eel.)

"Snape says you will testify on his remorse at becoming a Death Eater," Ogden began. "But I don't see how you can possibly know his state of mind."

"I'm here to testify of his actions," Dumbledore said mildly. "Severus Snape showed his remorse by becoming a spy on my behalf. Because of the information he was able to feed me, many lives were saved. For example, the Prewett brothers' families were at a hotel in Brighton when their homes were attacked. Gideon and Fabian wanted to confront the Death Eaters, and we had made arrangements for several people—Alastor Moody among them—to give them support. But unfortunately, our team was ten minutes too late."

"And how did you know that he didn't betray the Prewett brothers by telling the Death Eaters to be early?"

"Because he made an Unbreakable Vow," Dumbledore said calmly, prompting the Wizengamot to erupt into loud discussion.

Severus was back in the central chair next, facing off again with Ogden. "Tell me about the Unbreakable Vow," the latter said now.

"I pledged to obey Dumbledore's commands and to keep his secrets."

"Just Dumbledore? Not the Prewetts, for example?"

"It was Dumbledore who arranged for the team that was to back up the Prewetts; I could hardly tell a Death Eater that without dying."

Ogden nodded, then looked up at Marchbanks, who nodded back.

"Thank you, Master Snape. Please wait outside while we deliberate."

~~SS~~

Albus and Minerva had to wait outside, too. They stood calmly next to the door while Severus paced frantically back and forth. After a few minutes, Lucius Malfoy came clattering down the stairs. "Oh, they're deliberating already! How are you holding up, Severus?"

Severus shrugged. "I think I'll be okay."

"You're not shackled and you're out here without a guard. I'm pretty sure they'll let you off. Did you hear about Barty Crouch? And Bellatrix?"

Severus shivered. "Bella is a monster. She deserved to be shackled."

"Hey!" Lucius smacked him playfully. "She _is_ my sister-in-law, you know."

"And how she and Narcissa came out of the same womb, I'll never know."

The door opened then, and Tiberius Ogden gestured Severus into the room while shooting a dirty look at Malfoy. "And you too, Albus. You may come if you like, Minerva, but we definitely need Albus there."

Severus walked in and stood behind the chair (he didn't want to look at the shackles). He tried to look confident as he faced the Wizengamot but felt he was not succeeding.

Griselda Marchbanks stood up. She was so tiny that she was barely higher than she was while sitting in her chair, but somehow she managed to look regal all the same.

"Severus Tobias Snape," she said in a voice quavery with age. "You have been cleared of most charges brought against you. We have reduced the remaining charge to manslaughter. Normally this would be punishable by a year in Azkaban, but we feel that being under the influence of Albus Dumbledore is a positive influence on you. We therefore sentence you to serve twelve years on parole under supervision of Albus Dumbledore. We require you to remain at Hogwarts during these years, serving in any position that Dumbledore finds appropriate for you. If you do not like these terms, you may choose Azkaban instead. What is your choice, Master Snape?"

Severus closed his eyes. Aziz had been right, as he always was. "I choose Hogwarts," he said quietly.


	13. Harry at Hogwarts

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Harry at Hogwarts**

Twelve years at Hogwarts. Twelve was not a large number, but it might as well have been a hundred as far as Severus was concerned. In twelve years, Harry would be thirteen—in his third year. At that point, it only made sense for Severus to stick around for another five or so years, until Harry had graduated and safely reached adulthood, so he could make sure his one shot at salvation made sense.

Though he abhorred teaching potions to the younger set, he still thought about ways to refine his teaching techniques. (Aziz helped, of course, though the djinn was also well outside his comfort zone.) Teaching was only tolerable at the N.E.W.T. levels—Dumbledore had given him the freedom to only take those who'd received "Outstanding" scores on their O.W.L.s, so he didn't have to deal with dunderheads.

He brewed in his spare time, of course. Creating the standard healing potions for Madam Pomfrey was no problem at all, especially those he'd been brewing since his childhood. But he also spent time trying to develop new versions of old potions in which the rare or expensive ingredients were replaced by more common ones. No one should have to choose between health and financial solvency.

Many of his ideas came from his correspondence with his old master, Elmore Greengrass. During the summer he had time to go to Elmore's house and debate changes in person—a pastime they both enjoyed. In the summer of 1982, Elmore's daughter, Daphne, was a sturdy toddler who'd obviously recovered from her premature birth, and his wife, Aurelia, was expecting again. Severus's chats with Elmore were often interrupted as he ran to fetch and carry for Aurelia, as she was confined to bed. Severus often sat with Daphne on his lap and doodled pictures of potions ingredients as he talked with her father.

In August, Aurelia went into labor two months early at the most inconvenient time—both her parents and Elmore's were out of the country. (Ironically, they were trying to get in some much-needed vacation time before their second granddaughter made her appearance.) Severus, who had been planning to pop into the Greengrass home that afternoon anyway, volunteered to watch Daphne. He also contacted Aurelia's great-uncle Reginald (an older wizard who, like Elmore, had married late and had a young son). Reginald stayed at his own place to watch his son, Theo, but sent over his wife, Florence, to help coach Aurelia through her labor. Next, Severus contacted Lucretia; she came over as soon as her shift at St. Mungo's was done so they could tag-team care of Daphne.

Early the following morning, Severus and Lucretia brought Daphne to St. Mungo's. Lucretia had to go to work, so Severus was the one who took the little girl to the maternity ward.

"Come, Daphne. Let's go see your sister," Elmore said. But then a Healer rushed in, saying, "There are some complications with your wife, Master Greengrass—you'd better go to her."

"Watch Daphne, please, Severus?" begged the older wizard.

"I'll send someone in for you—you can take her to see her sister," the Healer yelled over her shoulder as she dashed out of the room.

And so it was Severus who carefully picked a little girl—barely four pounds—out of the bassinet in the infant ward. "This is Astoria," he told Daphne as he showed her how to hold her. "Your little sister."

~~SS~~

The years passed.

A new class of dunderheads arrived promptly in Severus's classroom each September first.

Both Aurelia and Astoria recovered somewhat from the trauma of early birth, though Aurelia always tired easily thereafter and Astoria suffered from "failure to thrive." Reginald Nott was Astoria's official godfather but Severus was her unofficial one and spent a large portion of his summers at the Greengrass estate.

Elmore and Severus created a potion to stop premature labor. They also created a nutritive potion that helped Astoria finally catch up with the normal growth curve.

Albus Dumbledore insisted that everyone stay away from Harry Potter and Severus, bound by the Unbreakable Vow, agreed.

Severus's Uncle Tiberius married an Italian Muggle in 1987 and moved her into Prince Hall. They had three sons in quick succession, in February 1988, August 1989, and January 1991.

~~SS~~

In June of 1991, Lucius Malfoy invited Severus to his home for dinner. Reginald Nott was there along with a few other former Death Eaters. When Severus arrived, Lucius skipped the normal handshake and pulled up his left sleeve. "I thought so! Look, his mark is darker too."

Severus hadn't looked at his Dark Mark for years. It had only been a faint shadow for most of that time, barely visible. But he looked now, and it was indeed marginally darker.

"A new Dark Lord is rising," Reginald said.

"Why would a new Dark Lord be linked to our marks?" Severus inquired curtly.

"It is said that when the Dark Lord's curse rebounded off of Harry Potter, some of his power transferred to the boy," purred Lucius softly.

"Harry Potter is _eleven,_" Severus growled. "No, almost eleven. He's living with Muggles and has very little magical power yet."

"You're at Hogwarts," Lucius said. "You must keep an eye on him. Let me know."

"He's a boy. I will not."

"You just hate him because of what his father did to you," Narcissa interjected.

"And what if I do?" snarled Severus.

"Never mind," Lucius shrugged. "I'll get Draco to befriend him when they start in the fall."

Severus scowled again. Harry was not, _could not_, be a Dark Lord. "The Potter boy will be nothing but trouble for us. Mark my words."

He would do whatever it took to make Lucius believe that. He couldn't let Lucius get his hands (or influence) on the child.

~~SS~~

September 1, 1991, finally arrived. At last Severus would be able to keep an eye on Harry Potter. Perhaps he would even be able to shape him into the sort of man who could take down Voldemort.

Hagrid walked in with the first years. It was immediately obvious which one was Harry: he looked very much like his father had at that age, except for his eyes, which he'd quite obviously inherited from Lily. Severus was pleased to see that the boy was standing with another boy who was clearly a Weasley, while Draco scowled at him from afar. Lucius wasn't going to influence the boy after all. Daphne walked in at the end of the line and winked at Severus. He raised his hand slightly in a subtle salute.

Daphne and Draco were sorted into Slytherin. Harry was sorted into Gryffindor—of course. Severus sighed. Well, at least it would be easier to keep him from Draco that way.

Severus listened to Albus's inane welcoming speech, then served himself a pork chop and some Yorkshire pudding. The latter wasn't quite as good as his mum's, but it still reminded him of her. (She was still in Italy; her brewing contracts made her good money.) As he cut up his pork chop, he glanced in the direction of the Gryffindor table—and saw Harry stuffing his face. Stuffing his face the way that Severus did when he first got to Hogwarts, because he was so used to being hungry.

Damn.

The Weasley boy was going to town on the food too, but he seemed to be in love with the variety as much as the quantity. Whereas Harry—Harry was wrapping a roll in a napkin and stuffing it in a pocket, as though he wasn't sure when he'd eat again.

Severus glanced over the rest of the room, trying not to stare too hard at Harry. But eventually—as the desserts appeared—he glanced back that way again. This time, Harry was looking his way, and the boy was most definitely _not_ a natural Occlumens. Severus looked in his eyes and saw immediately how clever Petunia had been. She hadn't figured out that his spell was a fake. Neither she, nor her oaf of a husband, had ever actually laid hands on Potter: they'd gotten their son to beat him up instead. The memory at the front of Harry's mind was of his uncle telling his cousin to poke him with a Smelting stick, whatever that was. Petunia and Vernon had housed Harry, as they'd felt compelled to—in a cupboard under the stairs. They'd fed him on leftover scrapings. They'd treated him as horribly as possible while still sticking to the agreement they'd made with Severus.

Severus was enraged. He struggled to get his feelings under control, but it was too late. Harry had seen the look on his face. Harry thought Severus hated him. Harry clearly did not remember playing blocks with his "Unca Sevus."

Well, if Voldemort was coming back soon—and his Dark Mark indicated that was likely the case—then he'd be forced into spying again, and it probably would be best if _everyone_ (Harry, Voldemort, and Albus included) thought that was the case.

And so he set out to be as mean as possible to Harry during his first potions lesson. It was remarkably easy—the boy expected everyone to be mean to him and reacted accordingly. Unfortunately, it meant alienating the one student who Severus suspected would eventually be a pleasure to teach in N.E.W.T. potions, a Gryffindor named Hermione Granger. Although she acted like an insufferable know-it-all, what he could see of her mind (she had a modest talent towards Occlumency, even when she wasn't trying) was well-disciplined.

~~SS~~

Of course, Snape couldn't only think about Harry Potter that year. Dumbledore knew that Voldemort was back in some form and he suspected that the Dark Lord was trying to get a hold of Nicholas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone. Over the summer, Severus had helped with the protections for the Stone by creating a logic puzzle as well as a series of potions. He was quite pleased with the result, but he worried about whether it would hold back Voldemort. The Dark Lord's ability to use logic was unpredictable—sometimes he was incredibly brilliant and focused, and other times he was completely ruled by emotion. Well, Severus had done his part and there wasn't much else he could do.

Or so he thought until he realized that _Quirrell_ of all people—the shrinking, newly-hired Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—was trying to get to the Stone. And that was unthinkable, because Quirrell had never been a Death Eater as far as Severus knew. What was going on with that?

He tossed this problem to Aziz one night as he brewed Pepper-Up for the infirmary. "I just don't get it. If Voldemort was going to use someone as a tool, wouldn't he pick someone like Lucius?"

"Not necessarily," Aziz said. "Remember, he's minus a body right now. If he somehow managed a resurrection, he'd have summoned all of you. That means he's probably possessing someone."

"But _Quirrell?_"

"Weak-minded people are easier to possess," said Aziz with a shrug. "I'll see what I can observe about the fellow."

So Severus tried to focus on teaching while Aziz spent most of the next few days invisible, following Quirrell around.

"Yup! He's possessed," the djinn reported a week later. "He finally took that turban off to shower, and he's got Voldemort's face on the back of his head."

"You've got to be kidding me!" growled Severus angrily. "So why hasn't he gotten to the Stone yet?"

"Weak-minded people are easy to possess but they're still not very bright," commented Aziz.

~~SS~~

On Halloween, when Quirrell said there was a troll in the dungeons, Severus did not believe his fainting act. This was a diversion; he was sure of it. Dumbledore wanted him to conduct his students to Slytherin House, but he put the prefects in charge and slunk quietly off towards the third floor. He'd guard that trapdoor in person if that's what was necessary.

Of course, he hadn't realized that Dumbledore had added protection (Hagrid's suggestion, no doubt) to the third-floor corridor where the trapdoor was housed. The giant, three-headed dog—no doubt a descendant of Cerberus—glared angrily at him.

"I'm here to help guard," he told it, but it didn't believe him. He barely escaped with both legs intact.

~~SS~~

Of course, Severus couldn't tell Albus what he'd done. Albus had only implied that it was a good idea for the professors to stay out of that corridor; he hadn't commanded them to do so. But Severus suspected the headmaster would be very, very unhappy with him nonetheless. So he didn't tell Albus, nor did he tell Poppy Pomfrey (who would be sure to report the incident to Albus).

Dittany didn't work on the wounds, nor did any of the standard healing potions. Aziz had no easy answers—he'd never dealt with a cerberus before—but he promised to consult with the Djinni Collective. Naturally, this would take a few days. In the mean time, Severus enlisted the help of Argus Filch—who was annoyed at Albus because he really hated the idea of _any_ part of "his" castle being off-limits to him—to bind the wounds.

Of course, while they were doing that, Harry Potter just _had_ to poke his head through the door. Damn Harry! He really was an annoying little swot.

~~SS~~

But of course, no matter how annoying Potter was, Severus had good reason to keep him alive. And a couple of days later, it became clear someone _definitely_ wanted the boy dead. During the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor match, Harry's broom bucked out of control, threatening to toss him to the ground. To the boy's credit, he managed to stay in the air, though just barely.

Severus spotted Quirrell muttering under his breath—clearly, jinxing the broom. It wasn't a spell Severus was familiar with, but he thought up a counter-curse and began muttering that under his breath. (He would have loved to be less obvious, but it was hard to do a spell non-verbally if you just made it up.) It was only sort of effective though: the broom's behavior was not getting better, but at least it was no longer getting worse. After a minute or two he heard Aziz whisper a slight adjustment to his counter-curse into his ear; this was much more effective and Harry (who'd been hanging from his broom by one hand at that point) was able to grab hold of the broom and swing one leg over the handle.

Severus felt a sudden burst of heat and pain and realized he was on fire. He almost dropped his wand in amazement but managed to hold on to it. He turned to put the fire out and—and it was gone. What the hell?

He turned and looked back up in the sky. Harry was gone. No, wait: Harry was swooping towards the ground. Now Potter was holding up the Snitch: Gryffindor had won for the first time in years. Damn that boy.

The only good thing about the day was that Aziz returned with a charm that would remove the curse on Severus's wounds. Once it was cast, dittany worked well to staunch the bleeding.

~~SS~~

The weeks passed and Quirrell had not made another move, either to claim the Stone or to eliminate Potter. Still, the man was not creative. Severus had no doubt that he'd try to kill him the exact same way.

Severus signed up to referee the next Quidditch match, hoping that it would give him an edge on protecting Potter. It was true that he wasn't very good on a broom—Aziz hadn't been able to help him there, as most of the djinn's mortal flying experience had been on a flying carpet—but he wasn't horrible, either. And he didn't need to actually _play_ Quidditch, just watch it closely.

As it turned out, his help wasn't necessary. Dumbledore was on hand as well—no doubt having researched, as Snape had, a proper counter-curse for the jinx Quirrell had used last time. Plus, Potter caught the Snitch in under three minutes, not long enough for Quirrell to do anything.

Severus saw the scowl on Quirrell's face and cornered him as the other professor left the stadium. "I know what you're up to, Quirrell. Talk with me in the forest in ten minutes."

Quirrell shrugged. "Don't see why I should."

Severus pointed his wand at him. "Do you know my reputation for dueling?"

Quirrell gulped audibly. "Yes, sir."

Severus ran back into the castle, snatched Aziz's lamp from his desk drawer (he'd been afraid to wear the necklace while flying), and stalked into the forest.

"I d-d-don't know why you w-wanted to meet h-here, of all places, S-Severus," the little professor stammered.

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," Severus replied coolly. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone, after all."

"I…what do I have to do with that?" Quirrell mumbled.

Snape whispered: "You? Or Voldemort?"

Quirrell's face blanched.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I—"

Voldemort on his head or no, Quirrell was easily intimidated. Severus struck his most menacing pose and said, "You don't want me as your enemy."

"I-I don't know what you—"

"You know perfectly well what I mean. You think you'll get the Stone for our master, but you're wrong. _I_ am the one the Dark Lord trusts implicitly. _I_ am the one who will get it for him. You can try to figure all of the protections, but only I have the power to get through them. If you want our master to succeed, report everything you find to me. Go on, do your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't—"

"Very well," Severus interrupted. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think about where your loyalties lie." And he threw his hood over his head and stalked off before Quirrell could reply.

~~SS~~

"I think Voldemort is possessing Quirrell," he told Albus later that night.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure he is," Albus replied. "But how?"

"No clue. More importantly, what are you going to do about it?"

"Oh, don't worry, I have a plan," said Albus airily, as he ushered Severus out of his office.

~~SS~~

Unfortunately, Dumbledore's plan turned out to be having Harry battle the possessed Quirrell. It was only through sheer luck (and, Severus suspected, due to the coaching and protection of Hermione Granger) that Harry survived that encounter.

When Severus found out, he was furious. "How dare you risk our only chance of salvation?"

Dumbledore shrugged. "He's protected, remember?"

Severus scowled; the old codger had a point. The original seven years of the spell had passed, and they were three years into the nine that Dumbledore's protection allotted.

"That doesn't mean that you should play fast and loose with his life," he snarled.

"When he finally faces off with Voldemort in a _real_ duel," Albus said, "He must know everything there is to know about fighting him. And I'm going to make sure he learns all that while he's still protected."

"That's madness," Severus whispered, although there was a certain unescapable logic about it.

"Maybe so, but it's better than any alternative that I can come up with," replied the headmaster. "How's your Dark Mark doing?"

Severus pulled his left sleeve up, showing a forearm that only bore faint traces of the cursed mark. "Back to where it was."

"Then we—and Harry—are safe for now," said Dumbledore softly. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a tin of sweets. "Sherbet lemon, Severus?"

~~SS~~

_Thus ends Harry's first year of Hogwarts. All in all, it wasn't too hard on Severus. Let's see how he handles the appearance of a Horcrux in the next chapter!_


	14. Horrors and Horcruxes

_It's been a while. It would have taken a while in any case; this chapter is as long as some multi-chapter fanfics I've written and is extensively researched to be compatible with canon._

_But then, just as I was almost done, I got Covid-19. A mild case, to be sure, but "mild" only means that you stay out of the hospital. I managed to escape that—barely. I'm on week 5 here, and it's horrible. Trying to work from home while being incredibly fatigued has been… interesting. (I got the first two weeks off.) In any case, I'm better enough to start writing again._

_I hope you find it worth the wait._

_~Dr. Hermione_**  
**

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Horrors and Horcruxes**

Because he'd had Draco in his class the previous year, it wasn't terribly surprising that Severus received an invitation to dinner at Malfoy Manor that August.

_I know you like to be alone during the summers, but please come, _Narcissa had scrawled in her postscript. _I promise it will be just be Lucius, Draco, and myself._

"Sweet Merlin, what do they hope to get out of this event?" Severus grumbled to Aziz that night. They were in the sitting room at Spinner's End, as they often were after dinner— Aziz sprawled in a semi-reclining position in the air, Severus slouched in the battered old wingback chair that was his favorite, feet propped up on the table opposite.

"Hmmm," Aziz said. "I wonder if it's really safe for you to be hanging out with Death Eaters when Voldemort is in hibernation?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully, then frowned. "No, wait, Malfoy Manor is in Wiltshire." Floating down next to Severus, he put his finger squarely on the Dark Mark. "Yes, one of the ties is there."

"What do you mean?" Severus asked.

Aziz sighed heavily. "Do you remember the night after Voldemort died? When I said your Dark Mark was tied to several locations? They led in many different directions, but one of them was south-south-east of Hogwarts. When I felt your Mark right now, the directions those ties led have all shifted. The one that seemed nearby before seems to still be back at Hogwarts or very near there. The one that used to be due south of Hogwarts is now south-east of here—it's clearly moved somehow, because I can't figure one location that would make both of those criteria true. The one that was south-east before is almost, not quite, south-east."

Aziz tapped Severus's Mark again. "And the one that led south-south-east _still_ leads south-south-east. Which means it lies somewhere along a line that runs through here and Hogwarts. Now it's true, it could be somewhere like Le Mans or Barcelona or Algeria…but it doesn't feel that far away. Malfoy Manor lies somewhere near that line, Severus. I think there's something at Malfoy Manor that Voldemort is tied to."

"But—but he didn't make the Horcrux!"

"He didn't make _that_ Horcrux. But Severus—what if he was planning to make more than one? If he'd only made the one, there would be only one tie. Maybe he'd already made a bunch and he was going to make one more!"

Severus pulled his feet off the table and sat up straight. "I didn't realize that you could make more than one Horcrux."

"I've never known anyone to do so. And I'm not sure how well it would work in practice…but Voldemort was always a little too ambitious for his own good, don't you think?"

"You would have to split your soul several times. Would that even work?" Severus queried.

"Souls are hard to split in the first place. From what I've read, most people can't make a Horcrux properly on the first try. You can't just kill someone—you have to murder, with forethought and no feelings of mercy or compassion. I imagine that it gets easier with practice, though," Aziz said with a perturbed look on his face.

"Your soul would be split into smaller and smaller pieces, right?"

"Yes, and that's not a good thing. I had to do a lot of study on the nature and composition of souls as I prepared for this"—Aziz waved his hand at his ghostly body—"and I'm telling you, even without intentional splitting, souls are liable to getting frayed around the edges. They're the part of the human that doesn't truly belong in this dimensional space, and people have to work very hard to keep them whole and intact."

"Keep them whole—how?"

"Constant doing of good deeds, building other people up, self-sacrifice. By working to strengthen other people's souls, you also fortify your own. Without that, little bits and pieces of your soul crumble off and return to their home dimension. Now imagine splitting your soul—not once, but several times. As far as I can tell, a normal Horcrux doesn't contain half a soul; it contains a smaller portion, maybe a quarter or a sixth or something. So if you were making four, let's say you'd lose a sixth of your original soul the first time, leaving you with five sixths. The second time, you'd lose a sixth of that, five thirty-sixths, leaving you with twenty-five thirty-sixths. The third time, you'd lose a sixth of that, twenty-five two-hundred-sixteenths, leaving you with one hundred twenty-five two-hundred-sixteenths—less than half of your original soul."

"Voldemort did seem to be not quite human," Severus remarked. "Not to interrupt your math, but if you lose your entire soul, like if you get Kissed by a Dementor, you end up unable to function. But Voldemort seemed more powerful, not less so."

"When you're kissed by a Dementor, your soul all goes at once," replied Aziz. "You don't have time to react. Whereas when you only lose a sixth or so at a time—you have plenty of time to fill in that gap with something else. And by the way, thank you for stopping the math—I have no idea what six times two hundred sixteen is."

Severus scratched his head. "What could you fill a soul gap with?"

"I suspect hatred, anger, emotions of that sort."

"But then, when you make another Horcrux, wouldn't you also put part of that hatred into it?"

Aziz shrugged. "Maybe? Or maybe you only transfer the soul-bit. I don't know. Like I said, I've never heard of anyone doing it before."

"Well, this is shitty," Severus growled, leaping from his chair to pace back and forth. "I assume one has to destroy all of his Horcruxes before he's truly gone. How do you even destroy a Horcrux anyway?

"You basically have to destroy whatever the soul fragment has been put inside," Aziz replied. "Which is why it's so hard to destroy a Horcrux. The magic of making a Horcrux evidently imbues the soul-container with certain resistant properties. So, for example, Sauron—who might be based on the myth of an ancient wizard—made a Horcrux out of the One Ring. Frodo actually didn't have to cast it into Mount Doom—any volcano would have done. But regular fire could not melt it." Aziz winked at Severus, who was unashamedly gawping at him.

"So you think I have to find a Horcrux at Malfoy Manor and destroy it somehow?"

"Start by asking questions, Severus," Aziz counseled. "We'll figure out how to remove and destroy it later. But first we need to know what it might be."

~~SS~~

Severus had worried that he'd have to snoop around Malfoy Manor to discover what the Horcrux might be, but he shouldn't have worried.

Upon arriving, he was showed immediately into the dining room, and no sooner had he sat down than a loaded plate appeared in front of him. He enjoyed the juicy, tender pot roast with incredibly flavorful gravy—he really needed to get tips from Aziz on better cooking—while he, Lucius, and Narcissa chatted about Draco's first year of Hogwarts. "He definitely has a talent for potions," Severus told the beaming parents.

"First in his class, I suppose?" Lucius inquired, not noticing his son's pout.

"Second amongst all the first-years," Severus amended. "Pretty amazing."

"Humph. Who's first?" Lucius growled. "Don't tell me you're letting that Zabini boy best you."

Draco stared fixedly down at his plate. "No, father. I'm much better than Blaise at just about everything. It's…" The boy mumbled the rest of the sentence, then quickly stuffed his mouth with food before his father could ask him to repeat himself.

"Well, Severus? Who is it?"

"A Gryffindor, I'm afraid. Hermione Granger."

Narcissa wrinkled her nose in the way she'd always done while thinking. "Some relative of Hector Dagworth-Granger, I suppose? Potions probably run in her blood!"

"No, no. She's Muggleborn."

Lucius turned to his son, scowling. "You are clearly not trying hard enough, Draco. Perhaps you should go up to your room now and study."

"But it's summer!"

"No, no, listen to your father. It's not a bad idea," Narcissa prodded. "After you finish your vegetables, of course. Besides, I think Lucius wants to talk to Severus alone."

Indeed, after the plates had vanished from the dinner table, Lucius led Severus into the study. "Bourbon or whiskey?" he asked, taking two glasses out from a cabinet.

"You should know by now that I don't drink anything stronger than wine."

"Yes, yes, I'd forgotten about your family's unfortunate tendency towards alcoholism. Shall I have Dobby bring a butterbeer?"

Severus shrugged. "That will do, I suppose."

Lucius snapped his fingers to summon a house-elf. "Speaking of Gryffindors, I need to ask who your biggest troublemakers are from that house."

"Fred and George Weasley," Severus said without pausing to think.

"Which one is worse?"

"They're identical twins. Equally bad and virtually impossible to tell apart." For most people. Severus, as a Legilimens, had an advantage; George was the one who was usually mooning about Angelina Johnson. Of course, he had no intention of telling Lucius that he could see into people's thoughts. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, our dear master left me a little gift. Said it was cursed and would be good to use on enemies. I thought it would be fun to get a Gryff in trouble with it."

Severus frowned. "What _is _it? How does it work?"

"He said it would lead them to the Chamber of Secrets…"

"Psh! You don't really believe that, do you? The Chamber of Secrets is a myth. I'll bet he was joking."

Lucius shrugged. "Maybe. It seems innocuous. Nothing turns up with _Specialis Revelio_. And yet, I can't help but think of our erstwhile Master every time I hold it."

"May I see?" asked Severus, trying not to sound too eager.

Lucius produced a small, battered tome and handed it over. Severus examined the binding carefully and flipped through the blank pages. "Aparecium," he intoned, tapping it with his wand.

"I've tried all that," Lucius protested.

Severus shrugged. "It won't hurt to have a second pair of eyes on this. Pour yourself that drink, Lucius, while I examine it some more."

He whispered Aziz's name as soon as Lucius had turned his back. The djinn stayed invisible, but Severus could feel the pressure of a ghostly finger on his Dark Mark.

"It's what we're looking for," Aziz whispered. "I've never heard of anyone using a book for a Horcrux before—they're pretty easy to destroy."

"Should I do it now?" Severus mumbled under his breath.

"No, no. Get it to Hogwarts somehow."

"I have no idea what this is," Severus lied to Lucius. "If you give it to someone at Hogwarts, let me know who, please. I'll be able to give you progress reports on what's happening."

"That's why I brought you into this plan in the first place, Sev," smirked Malfoy. He looked around and saw his house-elf standing in the corner of the room—had he been there the whole time? "Bring a bottle of the 1988 merlot for Master Snape, Dobby."

~~SS~~

Severus looked across the staff room in disgust. Gilderoy Lockhart, that pompous popinjay, was trying very hard to hit on Charity Burbage, the Muggle Studies professor. The school year hadn't even started yet—this was Lockhart's very first day as a Hogwarts employee—and the idiot was trying to get laid! Charity probably had things in hand, but…well, maybe not. Her eyes darted around as though she were looking for a way out.

He swooped up in his best bat-of-the-dungeons fashion (oh, yes, he knew what the students called him) and smiled endearingly (he hoped) at the younger woman. "Charity, my dear, are we still on for tonight?"

Her eyes blinked questioningly at him for a while before she replied: "Oh, yes, of course. If you'll excuse me, Professor Lockhart?" And she grabbed Severus's elbow and maneuvered him away.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"It's an old trick," he said. "We should develop hand signals in case you need to use it again."

She closed her eyes. "And I've been a bitch to you. Look, I'm sorry. I—"

"I've heard it's the best way to keep unwanted suitors at bay," he said. "But since I've never thought of you that way—can we be allies of a sort?"

She nodded tersely. "Maybe we should sit by each other at meals? If you're okay with that?"

"Hmmm," he said. He liked eating his meals in silence.

"We don't have to talk," she added.

"I'll do it."

"Thanks again, Severus."

~~SS~~

Harry Potter, being a troublemaker, didn't even bother waiting until after the Welcoming Feast to get into trouble that year. He and his sidekick, Ron Weasley, took a flying car to Hogwarts instead of the train. And of course, Severus was the one to catch them as they tried to sneak into the school.

The absolute _nerve_ of that kid! Wasn't it bad enough that Dumbledore was throwing him in Voldemort's way any chance possible? How far could they push that protection spell?

Yes, he knew theoretically that Harry didn't know about the protection spell. But that made it, in some ways, even worse. How could Harry possibly be as reckless as James when James hadn't even been around to raise his son?

Harry needed to learn to be cautious: to watch his back, to always have a second, more experienced set of eyes watching out for him. He wouldn't learn that without serious consequences. But instead he got…detention. Ridiculous. The only one who could save him from Voldemort was an irresponsible idiot. Severus fumed for days.

~~SS~~

At the beginning of October, Severus was watching the first-year Gryffindor-Slytherin class with barely veiled contempt—most of them were complete idiots—and suddenly took a good look at the one student who actually showed more than a little talent. Ginny Weasley swept a batch of carefully cubed ginger root into her cauldron with a flourish, then looked up with mischief sparkling in her bright brown eyes.

A redhead. With freckles. And mischievous brown eyes.

The face he'd seen in James's mind back in the fall of 1981 was that of a young woman. Even though Ginny Weasley was still just a child, Severus had no doubt that she was the one that Harry was going to marry. It meant he had pledged to protect her. Well, he didn't know what she needed protection from _yet_, but she was looking a bit pallid lately.

Her brother, Percy, was in his next class. Severus pulled him aside beforehand. "Is your sister anemic?" he asked. "She looks paler than usual, as though she might pass out at any moment."

The boy shrugged. "She's probably fine. Maybe coming down with that flu that's going around? I'll send her to Pomfrey for some Pepper-Up."

~~SS~~

Halfway through October, Severus still hadn't figured out whom Lucius had given the book-Horcrux to, and Lucius hadn't bothered to tell him. He'd owled Malfoy to ask, of course, but never received an answer. He'd detained the Weasley twins on multiple occasions, finding any excuse necessary to rifle through their book bags (and their minds, to be honest). They were no more—or less, for that matter—troublesome than before. He did discover that they were thinking of creating a joke shop. Given both their propensity for mischief and their talent in potions, he actually thought that was quite a good career for them, and he wondered how he could encourage them.

~~SS~~

It was Halloween. The Great Hall was decorated with Hagrid's giant pumpkins and fluttering bats. Charity Burbage, Rolanda Hooch, and Aurora Sinistra, as the three witches; Minerva McGonagall, as Hecate; and Gilderoy Lockhart, as the title character performed a rendition of the Scottish play, Act IV, scene 1, for the students. The ladies were magnificent actors; Lockhart, who assumed the whole play was praising his character, strutted around as though he was the most charismatic person in the world.

_Had he even read the play?_ thought Severus. _Does he know he's supposed to be portraying a murderer?_ He glanced out over the audience to see how many of them were familiar with this work of Shakespeare's. A cursory glance of the Gryffindor table showed him that Harry Potter was not there, and neither was Ron Weasley. Well! He'd have to look into that. Their classmate, Hermione Granger, would surely appreciate the performance: she was named after a Shakespeare character, after all. But she wasn't there, either. _Interesting…_

Severus waited until Dumbledore excused the students before sweeping out the exit. Where would the troublemakers be? He hadn't thought that the Weasley boy, at least, would miss such excellent food. Harry either, for that matter: he'd returned from the summer hols looking woefully undernourished.

Where could they be hiding? Perhaps in the Come-and-Go room, as the house elves called it? Albus was heading up the stairs and Severus followed behind him, hoping to break free of the crowds enough to get to the seventh floor. But then he heard a shriek—Argus Filch was yelling about his cat being murdered. "Let me through!" Severus ordered in a menacing voice, and the crowds of milling students parted to allow him passage. Painted on the wall in shining letters were the words:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, was hanging from a nearby torch bracket.

And standing front and center, with gaping mouths and bewildered expressions, were none other than Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger.

Lockhart volunteered his office for the post-mortem on Mrs. Norris. Severus pushed his way into the office along with Filch, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Lockhart, and the Wonder Trio. No sooner had the door closed than the two older folks were bent over the cat, examining it. Snape, meanwhile, used the opportunity to use Legilimency on the three students.

Harry was feeling sorry for Filch but even sorrier for himself—he was sure he was about to be expelled. Well, good. Maybe the boy would stop meddling in everything. The Weasley boy was wishing they could get some real food, not the (literally) rotten stuff they had at the Deathday party they'd just attended. And Granger…Granger's mind was whirling with facts and analysis. She was determined to figure out who'd done it, more out of curiosity than a desire to clear her own name.

Severus bit back a smile. The girl was really something. It was a shame he didn't have more students like her. Sure, she got into trouble at times, but that was often nothing more than a sign of curiosity. He saw Harry staring at him and, realizing he probably should be more somber at a time like this, scowled at the boy.

Clearly, someone other than Harry or his compatriots had done this, but knowing the boy—and at this point, Severus knew him pretty well—he would go looking for the culprit. What could Severus do to keep him out of danger? Perhaps put the fear of expulsion into him.

Filch tried, predictably, to put the blame on Harry. When Harry proclaimed his innocence, Severus took the questioning down a road that was sure to point at his not being where he wanted to be. The boy even went so far as to state that they'd gone upstairs rather than to the feast because they were "tired and wanted to go to bed."

But Severus, who knew that wasn't the case, pushed back. His question about whether they'd wanted human food was interrupted by a loud rumble from the Weasley boy's stomach. _Damn it_, he thought, _this isn't working._ If anything, it was making Harry more recalcitrant. So instead he suggested that Harry lose Quidditch privileges—that game was so important to him. But of course, Dumbledore was lenient. Why was he coddling the boy so?

To top off what was a very frustrating evening, Lockhart suggested that _he _should be the one to make up the Mandrake Restorative Potions. As if! Severus thought that even Longbottom would be a more competent brewer.

~~SS~~

In the weeks that followed, the students got jumpier and jumpier. Many of them started avoiding Harry, Severus noticed, although they didn't seem to feel the same about Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger (who ought to have been equally suspect).

Severus was fairly certain that the opening of the Chamber—if, indeed, it had happened—had been triggered by Lucius's giving the Horcrux-book to someone. But whom? It wasn't Harry or his two sidekicks, nor was it either of the Weasley twins. At last, at Aziz's urging, he scheduled a meeting with Dumbledore in his office.

"Albus, we haven't talked much since the Dark Lord fell, but I really feel that something related is going on here," he began.

"I think so too," the older wizard twinkled. "After all, the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened was when Tom Riddle—the man who eventually styled himself as Voldemort—was a student at Hogwarts."

Well! That was information Severus definitely hadn't known.

"So, my boy, what do you know?"

"I know Lucius said he wanted to give a Gryffindor something that would help open the Chamber of Secrets. It didn't look like much, sir, and normal spells would not detect it. But from everything I've heard about it, I think it might be a Horcrux."

Dumbledore's eyes popped open. It took a lot to surprise his supervisor, but Severus had definitely done that here.

"A Horcrux! Hmmm, that's…very interesting. Do you know anything else? No? Well, then, let me do some digging and I'll get back to you."

~~SS~~

The weeks passed.

Harry Potter was endangered during a Quidditch game by a rogue Bludger. (Severus had been right: it would have been much safer to ban him from Quidditch.) Shortly thereafter, Colin Creevey was found petrified.

To boost morale, Severus suggested to Dumbledore that the students form a dueling club. It would be a good way for them to work out their anxieties, he told the headmaster. Naturally, Lockhart took the idea and ran with it, saying it was his own idea. Well! At least Severus would be the other professor involved in the club: he'd get a chance to duel the idiot. What fun he was going to have!

He was still thinking about it during the second year Gryffindor-Slytherin potions class, a week before they were to start the club, which explained why he wasn't paying as much attention as usual. A cauldron—Gregory Goyle's—exploded, splashing Swelling Solution everywhere. The idiot rarely got a potion right, but of course this was the one time he had. Students everywhere were howling; Draco's nose was enormous; Greg's swollen eyes made him look like a giant fly. Scowling, Severus handed out Deflating Draught to those who needed it and dispatched Greg to the infirmary, just in case—healing eyes could be a tricky thing.

Next he turned to clean up the mess. He banished the potion on the floor first, then turned to the cauldron…where he found the remnants of a Filibuster Wet-Start Firework. Sweet Merlin! With Longbottom in their class, this particular set of students were keenly aware of how dangerous potions accidents could be—how could any of them possibly _intentionally _cause a potions accident? Yes, he knew that Draco sometimes tried to sabotage the Gryffindors' potions: but he only tried to _ruin_ them, not do something that would intentionally cause harm.

It wouldn't be Draco or his cronies, Severus decided. That meant it was most likely a Gryffindor. And unfortunately, his first guess would be… "If I ever find out who threw this," he whispered, looking at Harry Potter, "I shall _make sure_ that person is expelled." Harry tried his best to look puzzled—ye gods, Severus hoped the boy never played poker—and that, in and of itself, said it all. Still, there was no evidence, so he could hardly take the Harry before Dumbledore. But why would he throw a firework in a potion? Harry was reckless, but he was neither stupid nor cruel enough to intentionally harm his classmates, unless he had a good reason. Or what he thought was a good reason, in any case.

Severus didn't figure out what that reason might be until later—not until after everyone had left, and he was tidying up the storeroom. The lid on the boomslang skin bottle had been screwed on at an angle. A further examination revealed that the jar of bicorn horn had been left on the shelf below the one where it belonged. No one ever got in the storeroom without his knowledge…unless there was a major diversion, that was.

Boomslang skin and bicorn horn. Damn. Someone was trying to brew Polyjuice. The Granger girl, no doubt. Well, he'd put a stop to that, as soon as Aziz could find out where she was doing it.

~~SS~~

Unfortunately, Aziz couldn't seem to find where the illicit brewing was taking place.

"Surely there's _somewhere_ you haven't checked yet," Severus growled as he freshened up after dinner a week later. It was the evening when the dueling club was scheduled to meet for the first time, and he was looking in the mirror, tying his hair back with a leather thong.

"I may not have checked the whole castle," Aziz admitted. "But I've checked all of the hidey holes where students get up to mischief. The Weasley twins have got something simmering in the empty classroom on the fourth floor of the northwest tower, but they don't associate with Granger.

Severus scowled, trying to think if Ron would steal for his brothers. But wait, no—he'd been standing right next to Harry during the incident. It couldn't have been Ron.

"I believe it's time, master," Aziz said, gesturing at the clock.

"So it is," Severus smirked, and swept off eagerly to the inaugural meeting of the Hogwarts Dueling Club.

~~SS~~

Severus followed Lockhart up onto the golden stage at the side of the Great Hall. The popinjay began by bragging about his accomplishments—which, at this point in the school year, Severus was inclined to believe were all made-up. And now…

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart grinned. "He tells me he knows a tiny bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry—you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

Severus had to bite his tongue to keep himself from laughing aloud—he did have his dangerous teacher persona to maintain, after all—but he couldn't stop himself from smirking. They turned to each other; Lockhart bowed, but Severus, who couldn't bring himself to show the idiot any respect, merely jerked his head and raised his wand. Lockhart said something stupid again, and then…

"One—two—three—"

"_Expelliarmus!_" shouted Severus. It wasn't what he'd use in a _real_ duel, of course, but he didn't want to give the students any bright ideas. Lockhart didn't speak; he'd probably been so focused on the speech he was giving he'd forgotten to choose a spell in advance. Severus's spell slammed into him hard: blasting him off his feet, knocking him completely off the stage and into the wall. There were loud cheers from the Slytherin section of the room, and a few whoops from the other houses as well. (Predictably, there were also some cries of shock from several girls.)

Gilderoy staggered to his feet. Severus had to admit, the fool thought quickly, acting as though he'd meant to allow Severus to do it, saying that it was a good demonstration, and all that. Still, to demean his casting in that way—

"Enough demonstrating!" proclaimed Lockhart in his cheery voice. "I'm going to come amongst you now and put you all in pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to come help me—"

Severus started with several Hufflepuffs, who stood between himself and his Slytherins; Lockhart began with a few giggling Ravenclaw girls. Looking ahead, he saw the Parkinson girl moving closer to Miss Bulstrode—who, despite her large stature, was really quite a wimp, for a Slytherin. The look on Pansy's face said she was up to no good; he'd have to pair Millicent with someone more forgiving. Ah yes, Granger was nearby! Of course, Potter would claim her, or Weasley, unless he acted fast…

"Time to split up the dream team, I think," he sneered. "Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter—"

Harry sidled towards Hermione. "I don't think so," Severus ordered. Looking around, he saw Draco with an eager smile on his face. Well, better that Harry learned how to duel a Slytherin sooner rather than later. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Granger—you can partner Miss Bulstrode."

Granger smiled weakly at Millicent. The Slytherin girl's demeanor may have looked imposing to a Gryffindor, but Snape knew she was actually frightened.

"One…two…" A blast went off in the room before the count of three—from Draco, no doubt, as his father had taught him never to fight fair—and the rest of the students, befuddled, began casting spells at each other.

Lockhart was screaming ineffectively at Harry and Draco; Severus sighed and took charge, casting _Finite Incantatem_ on the two boys. He looked around the room, noting that few students actually seemed to have successfully cast the spell. Granger had, of course; Millicent's wand was a good five feet behind her. Granger had also dropped her wand, though for a completely different reason: Millicent had her in a headlock. Granger was groping around ineffectually, trying to grab her wand, but it was several inches beyond her grasp. Harry leaped forward and separated the two girls.

Finally it was quiet. "I think I'd better teach you how to _block_ unfriendly spells," Lockhart announced. "Let's have a volunteer pair—Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you—"

_Longbottom!_ "A bad idea, Professor Lockhart. Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox." Severus scanned the room. Goyle and Crabbe? Zabini and Nott? Or…or maybe he could motivate Harry to learn to duel properly. "How about Malfoy and Potter?" he suggested.

"Excellent idea!" exclaimed Lockhart, as he cleared a space in the middle of the room for the boys to work. Snape had to bite his tongue again as Lockhart attempted to demonstrate a spell flamboyantly, but instead dropped his wand. He leaned into Draco and said, "Make your father proud." Malfoy smirked back at him.

Harry, meanwhile, was taking subtle jabs at Lockhart—very clever jabs, Severus had to admit. Maybe he'd inherited Lily's mind after all.

"Three—two—one—go!" Lockhart shouted.

Draco did not use the spell that Severus expected. "_Serpensortia!_" the boy shouted, and a large, black snake shot out of his wand and slithered towards the exit—and Justin Finch-Fletchley, who stood in the way. The king cobra hissed and raised itself to strike, as the other students ran away screaming.

All except for Harry, that is. He glided forward until he was level with the snake, and _hissed_—and, miraculously, the snake stopped. Severus shook off his stupor and vanished the snake wordlessly. Then he looked at Harry cautiously. The boy was a Parselmouth? How odd.

~~SS~~

"He must be a descendant of Slytherin," Aziz said authoritatively, later that evening.

"I thought that line had all died out," Severus retorted. "All except Voldemort, that is."

"There's always a bastard line somewhere," his genie replied smugly. 

~~SS~~

The holidays finally arrived. Severus had been invited to join Uncle Ty and his family for Christmas. Normally he would be pleased to get a break from Hogwarts, but after the petrification of Justin Finch-Fletchley, he was worried about leaving. He declined the invitation—until he found out that his mother would be there, that is. Because it was the first time she'd returned to England for the holidays, he decided to go for a few days.

He returned to some rather shocking reports: Someone had stunned Crabbe and Goyle and left them locked in a closet; and Miss Granger had ended up in the hospital wing, half-cat. _Ha!_ He thought. _She should have known that you can't use Polyjuice for human-animal transfiguration._

~~SS~~

Despite the upheaval caused by the "Heir of Slytherin," the school year seemed to pass relatively quickly—with the exception of Lockhart's "surprise" on Valentine's Day. Final exams were now just a month away. The final Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, ended up being cancelled, due to the petrification of Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater. Penelope had been holding a mirror. Was that supposed to mean something?

"Is there a medusa around?" Aziz asked when he heard the news. "And if there were, would she know?" 

Severus hummed softly. "She wouldn't, but the Granger girl would have. Any more clues on where the Horcrux is?"

Aziz sighed, as he did every night when his master asked the question. "You know I would have told you if I discovered anything. Are we dueling tonight?"

Since the failure of the dueling club, Severus had decided to take out his frustrations by dueling Aziz one evening a week. It wasn't quite like dueling a human; in fact, it was much harder, as the djinn could cast both wandlessly and non-verbally. "You just have to learn to do it yourself," the djinn told him frequently. Severus was good at both wandless and non-verbal magic when he had time to pull himself together, but it was different when he was in a fight.

~~SS~~

Despite his (and Aziz's) best efforts, there were no other clues leading them to believe a medusa was skulking around Hogwarts. Time passed more slowly after the latest attack, as they had to escort their students _everywhere_.And since Dumbledore had been put on leave, they didn't even have him watching their backs: Severus was jumpy.

Three days before the first exam, early in the morning, Severus was summoned to the greenhouses. "The Mandrakes are ready!" Pomona told him. "Are you ready to brew?"

"Right after my last class, which finishes at three," he said.

"And it takes…"

"Four hours," he said. "I'll work through dinner. I've got to find out what's going on."

Miss Granger knew. He was sure of it.

~~SS~~

"All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staffroom. Immediately, please."

The emergency announcement spell was never used at Hogwarts except in times of dire need. When Severus heard Minerva's voice booming through the corridors, he knew another attack had happened. He dismissed the sixth years, ordering them back to their respective common rooms, and rushed up the stairs.

Most of the professors were sitting silently around the table in the staffroom. Severus couldn't stand still; instead, he paced around, as did Rolanda Hooch.

"It has happened," Minerva said quietly. "A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself."

Severus stood still. He grabbed the back of a chair—he had to do something with his hands—and asked, "How can you be sure?"

"The Heir of Slytherin left another message," Minerva proclaimed. "Right under the first one. 'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.'"

Filius started sobbing; Rolanda collapsed into a chair. "Which student?"

"Ginny Weasley."

Severus's head started spinning; he couldn't concentrate on what Minerva was saying. Damn. Of all people—Ginny Weasley! One of the two he was sworn to protect. He needed to get alone, ask Aziz to help with the search—

The staffroom door banged open, and Lockhart—beaming wildly—pranced in. "So sorry—dozed off—what have I missed?"

How could the idiot _doze off_ in the middle of an emergency? Well, Severus was nothing if not a quick thinker. "Just the man. The very man," he said in his silkiest voice. Lockhart preened. "A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last."

Lockhart turned white.

"That's right, Gilderoy," Pomona bubbled cheerfully. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I—well, I—" sputtered Lockhart.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" squeaked Filius. Severus had never been so glad of the support of his fellow teachers.

"D-did I? I don't recall."

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested." Severus had been so angry when he'd heard that, he'd left the staff meeting early. He wasn't friends with Hagrid, but at least the half-giant _tried_ to be competent. He continued: "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?"

Lockhart stared at his colleagues, eyes bulging. Charity was biting her lip—no doubt to keep from laughing; Filius had put on his best poker face; Rolanda was tapping her fingers on the table and scowling; and Pomona was staring coldly, arms crossed over her chest.

"I—I really never—you may have misunderstood—"

"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy. Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last." There was a touch of triumph in Minerva's voice.

Lockhart sat petrified for what seemed like forever. At last he spoke up. "V-very well. I'll—I'll be in my office, getting—getting ready." He tried to look feeble as he left the room, but he was clearly trembling.

The door shut with an ominous click.

"Right," Minerva said with a smug grin. "That's got _him_ out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories?"

Severus walked out of the room, knowing he would have to obey. But first, he hid himself in a window alcove. "Aziz!"

"Yes master?"

"Ginny Weasley has been taken. Alive. You know who she is?"

"I do. The redhead. With freckles and an attitude." 

"And Harry's future wife. You know I promised…Well. We have to find her, Aziz. For her own safety, and for Harry's sake as well."

"I'll look." 

~~SS~~

It wasn't until very late when Aziz came bursting into Severus's chambers. Severus, who'd decided that the best offense was a good defense, put a stasis spell on the Restorative Draught he'd been brewing. "Harry found her! They're covered in muck—heading for Dumbledore's chambers."

Severus sagged, feeling the tension drain out of his body. "Dumbledore's back?" Aziz nodded. "Thank God. But—Harry? What was he doing out of his common room?"

Aziz shrugged. "He's the perfect mix of his father and his mother, it seems."

Severus pulled on his cloak and slunk up the stairs as quickly as he could. Ahead of him, almost to Dumbledore's office, he heard something crying in pain—something not quite human. Then he heard Harry's voice at the top of the stairs.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry said, panting. "I've got something for you."

There was an alcove with a suit of armor halfway up the stairs. Severus slipped inside, watching the tableau taking place above him. Lucius was standing proudly, sneering down his nose at Harry; his house-elf, Dobby, stood to one side. Harry shoved something into Lucius's hand.

"What the—?"

Lucius extracted a squarish object from what looked like the remnants of a…sock? No matter; he'd tossed the thing aside—Dobby, ever the good elf, caught whatever it was—and then Severus saw what Lucius was holding. _The diary_.

"Aziz!" he whispered, and instantly his djinn was there. "He has the diary! He must have given it to…Ginny Weasley?"

"Oh!" Aziz exclaimed. "Let me go take a look!" He popped into invisibility.

Meanwhile Lucius, who'd been shouting at Harry, turned and started down the stairs. "Come, Dobby. I said, _come._"

The little house-elf didn't move. He was holding up the piece of cloth which was, in fact, a sock. "Master has given a sock. Master gave it to Dobby," he intoned reverently.

"What's that? What did you say?" Lucius growled.

"Dobby got a sock." The little house-elf seemed stunned. "Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby—Dobby is free."

Lucius stood, riveted to the spot, for a few seconds. Then he lunged up the stairs to Harry. "You've lost me my servant, boy!"

But a small voice, a house-elf voice, rang powerfully through the air: "You shall not harm Harry Potter!" Lucius came tumbling past Severus, bouncing almost comically down the stairs. He got to his feet shakily, reaching for his wand—but Dobby stood menacingly, his finger pointed at Lucius. At last, the blond man swung his cloak around him and hobbled away. Dobby turned to talk to Harry, and Severus used the chance to leave unnoticed. 

~~SS~~

"It's no longer a Horcrux," Aziz told Severus later that night as he finished brewing the Restorative Draught. "It seemed to have been pierced by…a basilisk fang? Basilisk venom would certainly explain that sort of damage. And a basilisk would certainly explain the petrification."

"Am I free, then?" Severus asked hopefully, as he swept some diced garlic into his cauldron.

Aziz floated up behind him and put one ghostly finger on his Dark Mark. "I'm afraid not, Master. Severus, he _definitely_ made more than one Horcrux. You've lost one tie to Voldemort, but only just the one."

Severus bowed his head, feeling that a heavy burden had been dropped on his shoulders. "We'd better go tell Dumbledore."


	15. Snape's Nemesis

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Snape's Nemesis**

It was the beginning of August and Severus was enjoying himself immensely. He always spent at least four weeks in Italy over the summer: brewing with his mother (or on his own), swimming in the pool, or just lounging around and enjoying the heat.

At the moment he was sitting on the pool terrace with a pastry and an espresso, reading the _Impero Magico_ (Rome's daily magical newspaper, founded 72 AD) in an effort to increase his Italian vocabulary. A fluttering of wings alerted him to the arrival of an owl. That's right; it was Sunday, and so his weekly shipment of _Daily Prophets_ was due today. He grubbed in his pockets for enough coins to pay the owl—it was eight sickles for a weekly international subscription to the _Prophet_—and unrolled the bundle of parchment.

He didn't read all the papers in depth when they first arrived, just scanned the headlines. Fudge was stupid. How was that news? Rita Skeeter was annoying: same. The Wizengamot was trying to modernize the domestic violence laws—finally! Severus flipped idly to the next paper in line and inhaled sharply.

BLACK ESCAPES AZKABAN, the headline read.

Sirius Black, Severus's nemesis, was at large.

Severus knew that Sirius had not been the one to actually betray James and Lily; they'd told him themselves that Peter Pettigrew had been their Secret Keeper. But he fully believed that Sirius was capable both of killing Pettigrew—he would have been obsessed with revenge—and taking down innocent bystanders in the process. If there was one thing Severus had learned, it was that Sirius was _heartless_.

How could Black have escaped? And if he could escape, why would he do so now—why hadn't he done it earlier?

"Aziz," he whispered.

"Here, Master." It was rare, when they were in Italy, for Aziz to make himself visible, but Severus heard the quiet voice in his ear.

"I wish to catch Sirius Black."

It was the first time that Severus hadn't consulted Aziz on the wording of a wish. He sighed, enjoying the surge of magic that coursed through his body. There was silence for a while; then Aziz said:

"He'll come to Hogwarts in a few months. I'm sure of it. I can't see more than that for now."

"Thank you, Aziz. Let me know when you know more."

~~SS~~

"Wait 'til you see who I've hired as Defense teacher this time!" chortled Dumbledore gleefully.

Severus looked around the staff table uneasily. It was the traditional August 31 staff meeting; they always checked in, had announcements, and got information about the incoming first-year class on the day before students arrived. Everyone was expected to be there for this meeting, no exceptions. But despite Dumbledore's pronouncement, there were no new faces at the table. Lockhart was missing, as was Kettleburn.

Aurora Sinistra frowned at the Headmaster. "Are you just toying with us or are you actually going to produce a new Professor?"

Dumbledore shrugged, still grinning. "I'll produce him in good time. He just…well, he just couldn't be here today. He'll be riding the Hogwarts Express up with the children."

"And when will he get all of the information necessary for the school year?" Severus growled. He didn't like unfair treatment of anyone, and having exceptions made for this new professor—whoever he was—rankled him.

"I briefed him personally last week," said Dumbledore airily. Then he sighed heavily, looking as though every one of his hundred fifty or so years was resting on his shoulders. "Look, you all know there's a curse on this position. Applicants are…rare. It's why I accepted Gilderoy's application last year—there were literally no other applicants. This year there were none; I had to recruit. This person—he's a powerful wizard, no doubt. But he also has a disability. He'll teach most of the time, but there will be some days he'll be out of commission."

"Mad-Eye Moody?" queried Minerva.

"Hmm, there's an idea," twinkled Dumbledore. "Maybe I'll try him next year!"

"So who will teach when he's out?" Severus said brusquely. "You?"

"I'll do some," Dumbledore admitted. "Severus, I checked your schedule, and you're free to do the first- and third-years of all houses. Are you okay with that?"

Severus smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that." He'd always wanted to teach Defense, and this was his big chance to show Dumbledore how capable he was.

"Filius, can you do the second- and fifth- years?"

"Absolutely!" squeaked the little man.

"And I'll do the fourth-years and the N.E.W.T. students," Dumbledore finished. "No one else had a schedule that allows them to help out. Obviously this will just be a handful of times over the school year. We'll talk more about scheduling later."

Well, whoever the new professor was, he was allowing Severus to finally get his shot at teaching Defense classes, so he must be a pretty decent guy.

"Silvanus Kettleburn has retired," Dumbledore stated, "and Hagrid will be taking his place."

There was a rumble of congratulations from Pomona, Filius, Minerva, and even old Professor Babbling (who, despite her name, almost never spoke up.)

"Now for the even bigger change," Dumbledore continued. "As you all know, Sirius Black is on the loose. It's believed that he's out to find Harry, and the Ministry thinks we need to protect Hogwarts. So, starting tomorrow, a contingent of Dementors will be guarding the perimeter of the school grounds."

This announcement was met with angry protests from all the teachers, including Severus, and the spirited discussion that followed continued until dinner time.

~~SS~~

"The Dementors attacked the train!" gasped Irma Pomfrey, who was trying to catch her breath after running the entire way from the infirmary.

The other professors, who were mostly already sitting at the head table awaiting the arrival of the students, surged to their feet. 

"I told them it was a horrible idea to have those beasts here!" shouted Minerva McGonagall, who was following at her heels—she'd been waiting at the main doors to welcome the first years.

"And Harry Potter—he didn't take it well, he collapsed," Irma continued.

Dumbledore frowned. "Minerva—I believe you already had some business to take care of before the feast. Will you and Irma make sure he's well before he comes to dinner? Filius, will you handle the sorting?"

"It would be an honor," Flitwick intoned as seriously as possible with his squeaky voice. "I do hope Mr. Potter is all right."

"I think we should always have a professor on the train from now on," Irma said gruffly. "That's the only reason he wasn't Kissed."

This mystery professor was obviously a decent wizard, Severus decided.

~~SS~~

He felt differently after the older children had streamed into the Great Hall, followed by…oh, God. Remus Lupin. They didn't just have Dementors in the school this year; they had a werewolf, as well. No wonder Dumbledore knew he'd need people to cover his classes.

The full moon had been the day before, which explained why Lupin hadn't made the staff meeting. He still looked sickly and wan, and…yeah, undernourished. Severus didn't like the man, but it always broke his heart to see someone who hadn't eaten enough. No one should have to endure that.

The first years filed in and were sorted by the Sorting Hat. Minerva entered just as Filius was carrying out the hat and stool, followed closely by Harry and Miss Granger. Looking down the table, Severus noticed Dumbledore beaming at Remus. Severus scowled angrily. Why couldn't he have given them more warning instead of springing the werewolf on them in such a public place? Well, what's done was done. Although…hmmm, now that he thought of it, he really _did_ need to have a chat with Dumbledore.

~~SS~~

"It's less about his being a werewolf, and more about him being Sirius Black's friend," Severus explained as patiently as he could.

"Have you talked to Remus about this?" Dumbledore queried.

"Why should I? He's already here."

"He's been living in the woods for the last few years, eating food out of Muggle dumpsters. He can't hold down a job in either Wizarding _or_ Muggle worlds, thanks to his disability. I knew about Sirius's escape before I offered him the position, and it's something I considered carefully. I believe him when he says he doesn't want to rock the boat."

Severus shook his head disbelievingly. "I'm quite sure he doesn't want to, Albus. But he's so easily persuadable."

"Severus, enough! He's here. You know it's only for a year—the curse will make sure of it. Please, try not to make his life harder than it already is?"

Severus scowled and turned to leave so quickly that his swirling cloak almost knocked over one of Dumbledore's silver whirligigs.

~~SS~~

Two weeks later, he found himself back in Dumbledore's office.

"In addition to taking over Professor Lupin's classes around the full moon, I'll need you to brew the Wolfsbane potion for him," Dumbledore stated calmly.

"Why don't you just buy it commercially and take it out of his salary?" snapped Severus. "What's the point of a professor who can't even teach?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Severus, I know there's no love lost between you two. After what you went through in your fourth year, I wouldn't have inflicted his presence on you if it weren't absolutely necessary. But you know there wasn't much of a choice."

"You could have chosen me!"

"No, I couldn't," Dumbledore countered. "Because the position is cursed, and you'd have to leave after a year. You need to stay here."

"I need to stay here. And to stay here I'd need to teach. But I'm not required to brew yet another potion—a complicated one, as you know."

"Even if I pay you to brew it? I was planning to."

"Even then. I'd rather have the time than the money."

The headmaster closed his eyes and rested his face in his hands. "Severus, I know I'm asking a lot. It's just—well, you know as well as anyone that werewolves aren't welcomed in society. Most people don't know, and I want to keep it that way. I…I don't often invoke your oath of obedience, but I'll do so now if you continue to refuse." 

~~SS~~

Severus was in a towering temper by the time he stalked back down to his classroom. This period he had, of course, the third-year Slytherins and Gryffindors. There was always bad blood between his Snakes and the other houses, but this particular class was worse than most. Draco walked in late, his arm was in a sling. Severus had heard about the incident with the hippogriff, naturally—he was Draco's head of house, after all—but he'd also heard that the cut had been completely healed with one wave of Irma Pomfrey's wand. A part of him wanted to put the smug child in his place, but the other part—well, he just wanted to take out his frustration on someone who would make that process _satisfying_. That someone would _not_ be a person with a powerful father.

"Sir," Draco called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm—"

"Weasley, cut up Malfoy's roots for him." Severus was glancing over the recipe for the Wolfsbane Potion. He'd have to start tonight if it was to be ready in time for the full moon. He got up with a sigh and started making his rounds amongst the students, still thinking of the potion.

"Professor, Weasley's mutilating my roots, sir."

Severus looked down. Those were supposed to be _diced?_ Ha. "Change roots with Malfoy, Weasley." The lad turned bright red, shoved the carefully diced roots across the table to Draco, and began attempting to repair his roots. Severus was going to have to find an unobtrusive source for cobra venom, if he were going to brew Wolfsbane…

"And sir, I'll need this shrivelfig skinned."

_Damn the boy! Can't he leave me alone?_ Severus looked about for another "volunteer" and found… "Potter, you can skin Malfoy's shrivelfig." His anger about having to brew, about having his thoughts interrupted by Draco's petulant whining, must have been written all over his face, because Harry was clearly terrified of him.

Severus began breathing slowly, the way that Aziz had taught him, trying to calm down. But he'd neglected the students early on in the class, and now they were almost all ruining their attempts at brewing the Shrinking Solution. He stopped to point out to Longbottom that he'd put in too much of everything—realizing, only too late, that he'd gone past the point of merely scaring the students into paying careful attention. It was when he snapped at Granger—always trying to help everyone—that he realized that his temper was starting to parallel his father's.

Merlin. This just would not do.

He sat back down at his desk, pushed the recipe for Wolfsbane into a drawer, and attempted to bring his emotions back under control. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Granger helping Longbottom despite his orders. Of course. Well, he could get Longbottom to pay closer attention and also teach Granger a lesson. He had the boy administer his Shrinking Solution to his toad (he knew it would work; Granger would have made sure of that) and then docked five points from the girl. She really ought to let her classmates learn the hard way.

~~SS~~

He ate lunch in the staff room and stayed there afterwards, as he often did on Thursdays, because he had a free period. It would be nice to have some peace and quiet for a change.

Unfortunately, he'd forgotten that Lupin had asked to use the boggart in the wardrobe as a demonstration tool for his Defense classes. And the class in question was—of course—the third year Gryffindors.

Startled out of his reverie by the intrusion into his hiding place, he snapped at Lupin about Longbottom's incompetence. He stalked out into the hall, slamming the door behind him.

"You need to calm down," Aziz whispered in his ear. "Go to your willow."

He still sought refuge out there when the weather was good enough. "All right, all right, I'm going," he said to the invisible djinn.

He didn't realize how much his lapses of temper would cost him until dinner, when he overheard the Brown girl giggling about what he looked like clad in a dress and a vulture hat. Soon the whole school knew.

Damn Lupin.

~~SS~~

Of course, Sirius tried to break into Hogwarts at Halloween. Severus argued with Dumbledore—he was still convinced that Remus's soft heart would leave him susceptible to persuasion by his erstwhile friend—but Albus refused to believe him.

Meanwhile, Severus had more pressing matters on his mind.

First, even before Halloween he'd had to come up with an appropriate punishment for Marcus Flint, Draco Malfoy, and Malfoy's two sidekicks, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. They'd dressed as dementors to try to scare Harry into catching the snitch at the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw Quidditch game. He was sorely tempted to turn their detentions over to Hagrid—who was _excellent_ at coming up with creatively humiliating (but also useful) extra work for students—but after seeing the look on the half-giant's face, Severus had taken on the burden of supervising their detentions himself. Flint and Malfoy chopped potions ingredients; Crabbe and Goyle scrubbed cauldrons.

Next, Severus had also brewed the Wolfsbane potion for the first time on Halloween. It had been successful in preventing Lupin from becoming a wolf, but only barely so. The werewolf had suffered greatly as his body attempted the transformation over and over, only to be magically stopped; and so, three days later, he was still unable to get out of bed.

Severus had been teaching both his normal potions classes as well as a few Defense classes, which would have been taxing enough. But he'd also had to stay up late the previous few nights with two of his Slytherins, who were having personal issues…

"It's not fair that Mummy has one of the few illnesses that you and Daddy can't cure," Daphne Greengrass sniffed as she snuggled up against Severus's sleeve.

"She's going to die, isn't she, Uncle Sev?" sobbed Astoria, who was seated on his lap, face buried in his chest.

"We don't know that," he said as calmly as he could, patting the first-year gently on the back. "She's been sick before and recovered."

Daphne sniffed vigorously. "She hasn't really recovered, though, has she? Or else I wouldn't be here again."

Aurelia Nott Greengrass had, indeed, been ill off and on since Astoria's birth—a couple of weeks at a time, three or four times a year. And Daphne was right, she was getting worse as time went on.

Severus was always the one who gave Daphne—and now Astoria—the news. Elmore knew that if they got an owl at breakfast there was a good chance his girls would break into tears, which would lead to some serious pushback from the Slytherins. So Elmore would send the owl to Severus, who would tell the girls after dinner in his office, where they could cry unobserved. Then he'd give them some red-eye remover before they headed back to the common room.

"I suspect she'll die younger than usual," Severus admitted. "But I think she has a few years left in her."

"This stinks," Astoria muttered into his chest. "I want to be homeschooled. I don't want to be away from Mummy."

Severus was quiet for a bit as he pondered what to say. Finally he replied: "I think she's trying to get you to create friendships, so you have people to cling to when she's gone."

"But we have Daddy. And you, Uncle Sev. We don't need anyone else."

"You'll always have me," he told Astoria, snuggling her in closely and hoping to God it was true. He wrapped his left arm around Daphne and felt her sagging against his body.

~~SS~~

Fate obviously had a sense of humor, because the day after he'd been up with the Greengrass girls until 2 AM, his first class involved teaching Defense to the third-year Gryffindors. He snapped at the students, ignored Miss Granger—who, as usual, had the contents of the textbook memorized—and even gave detention to Weasley. (At least he'd had the presence of mind to pawn the boy off on Madame Pomfrey for detention.) It was a relief to head back down to the potions classroom after that, but he still sniped at the students more than he liked.

At the end of the day, he took out his temper on Aziz. "Well? I wished to catch Sirius Black. What are you doing to help me with that?"

Aziz shrugged. "Your paths will cross without my intervention. Just obey Dumbledore's orders to a tee and I promise it will happen."

"In the meantime, he's endangering Harry! And you've promised that…"

"Severus! Calm down. Harry is in no danger."

"And just how would you know that?"

Aziz smiled. "He's not after Harry. He's after someone who…hmm, can't quite describe it…is _associated_ with Harry? Who hangs around Harry? Something like that. No, he feels quite protective of his godson."

"So you say," Severus snarled, leaping to his feet. "But you still insist that you're helping me catch him."

"I'm _bound_ to help you catch him. But it was a stupid wish, poorly thought out, and so I'm going to do the minimum necessary," the djinn replied smugly. "Don't worry, you'll catch him. Even the Minister will know that you did. But Severus…"

"What? I'm not undoing that wish. He deserves to be given to the Dementors."

"May I remind you, _Master_," Aziz spat, "that you've also asked me to help you become a tender-hearted, compassionate man. Someone that a tender-hearted woman could grow to love. You've wished for two things that are completely incompatible. So don't you complain when I do the minimum possible to fulfill the wish that is not in your best interest!"

Severus quieted, breathing heavily. He'd never heard his djinn speak to him that way before—not even after he'd killed his father.

~~SS~~

It was hard to feel any modicum of compassion towards Sirius Black so Severus tried being nice towards Remus Lupin instead. The werewolf was clearly thriving at Hogwarts; his face was getting rosier and he was even putting on weight. Most of the students liked him, even many of the Slytherins, despite the fact that he was a Gryffindor.

Severus found it hard to put the past in the past, but he did start saying good morning to Lupin at the breakfast table. This was so out of character for him—he never said good morning to _anyone_, not even Dumbledore—that Charity Burbage started commenting on it. (Severus and Charity were still sitting together at meals, even now that Lockhart was gone; they even had conversations now and then.)

Soon, Charity started inviting Remus to sit on the other side of her at meals. She'd heard that Lupin had spent time working in the Muggle world, and she was eager to gain first-hand knowledge of what it was like. Severus had always thought it was a bit odd to hire a pureblood as a Muggle Studies professor, but it turned out that the Board of Governors put pressure on any Muggleborn or even half-blood professor in that position, so only purebloods stayed for more than a year or two.

After a while, Severus decided that his "being nice" to Remus would extend only to greeting the werewolf and thinking charitable thoughts. Being friends would be impossible. Remus staunchly defended almost anything Harry Potter did—even sneaking out to Hogwarts weekends under James's old invisibility cloak—and had no interest in helping the boy learn responsibility. Avoiding Remus as much as possible therefore kept Severus from losing his temper.

The year dragged on. Severus continued avoiding Remus (especially after Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup; Remus and Minerva were both insufferable). He snapped at Aziz, who refused to do anything active to help him catch Sirius Black. Aziz continued snapping at him, telling him that continuing to hold that grudge was going to set back his progress by a decade or more. 

As the end of the year drew near, Severus started thinking about the Defense Against the Dark Arts position—specifically, wondering if it was possible to break the curse that kept people from holding it for a year. Lupin _had_ been good with the students, and if he had to be out a few days every month—well, it just gave Severus the chance to teach his favorite subject without worrying about the curse himself. Naturally, he broached the subject with Aziz.

"Well, yes," Aziz said briskly. "There is a way to break the curse. But as far as I can tell, that way involves destroying Voldemort permanently."

"Which I've already wished for," sighed Severus.

"Exactly," said Aziz.

"If I weren't worried about his transformations, I'd let him stay at Spinner's End," Severus admitted.

"You could brew him Wolfsbane."

"True. It's just—damnit! His best friends should take care of him if no one else. But two of the three are dead and the other one is on the lam. Aziz…can I wish for him to be taken care of?"

"You know the wishes work best if they concern your own actions." Aziz paused, closing his eyes and tapping his chin as he always did when he was reaching out magically to explore possibilities. Finally he breathed deeply, open his eyes, and regarded Severus calmly. "I don't think you need to wish at all. Something's going to happen. He's going to have a place to stay soon; he'll be fine."

~~SS~~

The last full moon of the school year fell on the last day of exams. It was fortunate that it hadn't happened earlier; no one else would have been qualified to give exams on Lupin's behalf. Still, it was not the best timing for Severus, who had to prepare Wolfsbane ingredients while proctoring exams. He had to skip dinner in order to finish the potion before moonrise. This was never a problem at Hogwarts; he begged some crackers and cheese from the house-elves (to keep his stomach from growling) and obtained a promise that they'd have some soup and bread for him after he was done brewing.

Finally, he was done. He ladled a full dose into a goblet and carried the smoking, stinking concoction upstairs to Lupin's office.

Remus was not in his office; nor did he answer when Severus knocked on the door to his private quarters. He also wasn't in the staff lounge…Severus _knew_ the werewolf didn't have rounds that night. Where could he be? He checked the office again. What was that thing on Lupin's desk? Ah, the old parchment that he'd caught Harry with a few weeks ago. It was a magical map of Hogwarts—why hadn't it worked for him before? Fascinated, he peered closer, noticing Dumbledore pacing back and forth in his office. Filius and Rolanda were—yuck!—in close proximity in Rolanda's quarters.

Where was Lupin? Ah. There he was! Heading into the tunnel under the Whomping Willow…why was he going there? Did he think the Wolfsbane potion wouldn't be brewed in time? _Well, there's still a good hour until moonrise,_ thought Severus. _I have plenty of time to intercept him._

~~SS~~

He'd known that the tunnel existed for over a decade but somehow he'd never brought himself to go through it to the very end. He knew it led to the Shrieking Shack, after all, and there were far easier ways to get there than stumbling through a tunnel with a much-too-low ceiling. Still, that was the way Lupin was going, and if Severus was quick he might catch the werewolf before he got to the end.

At the base of the Whomping Willow he stooped to pick up a branch—it was the best way to touch the 'magic' knot—and it was then that he saw it: a shimmering, silver pile of fabric lying on the ground just outside the range of the branches. He couldn't believe his eyes. Was this what he thought it was? Yes, it was. An invisibility cloak—Potter's, no doubt. He slipped it into a pocket of his robe and folded himself into the hollow under the tree, using the illumination from his wand to scan the way before him.

"Lupin?" he called as he stumbled along the low passageway, but there was no reply. He pulled himself out of the trapdoor with a sense of relief, straightening himself up with a sense of relief.

The Shrieking Shack had definitely seen better days. Not only were the windows boarded up, but the furniture was smashed and the wallpaper was peeling. Severus realized suddenly that, while the room was empty, the house was not: a glimmer of light and the rumble of voices came from a doorway. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the invisibility cloak, threw it over himself, and moved as quietly as possible to investigate.

As he moved down the hall and up the stairs towards the light, he heard a familiar voice—Lupin's. He was saying something about James. And—whoa. His own name.

"…amusing to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course he tried it—if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf—but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life…Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was."

_Your father_…Lupin must be talking to Harry! Well, that explained the invisibility cloak. But why had Harry dropped it? In any case, it didn't matter—he needed to put a stop to this before Lupin transformed! Severus stepped forward as Harry spoke and suddenly realized that Remus and Harry were not alone in the room—Granger and Weasley were there (of course), but also—Sirius Black.

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you, because he thought you were in on the joke?" asked Harry slowly.

Severus pulled out his wand with his right hand and whipped the cloak off with his left. "That's right," he smirked. Aziz had been right: he _would_ catch Sirius Black!

Granger screamed; Harry jumped, startled. Sirius Black leaped to his feet, but he didn't draw a wand. Well, that made sense; it was doubtful he had one after escaping from Azkaban. Too bad. Severus would have enjoyed dueling him.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow. Very useful, Potter, I thank you." Severus tossed the cloak to the side: he suspected he'd need both hands soon.

Remus stared at him bemusedly. "You're wondering how I knew you were here? I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And lucky I did," Severus explained, eyes glinting with excitement. "Lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus," pleaded Remus.

"I've told the headmaster again and again that you're helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof," Severus interrupted. "Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout."

"Severus, you're making a mistake. You haven't heard everything." Lupin's frightened eyes darted over to Black, and he paused to lick his lips. "I can explain. Sirius isn't here to kill Harry—"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight." Severus didn't care what Lupin was saying. A nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that Aziz had said the same, but he was only intent on paying Sirius back once and for all. "I shall be quite interested to see how Dumbledore takes this…He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, a _tame_ werewolf…"

Remus stepped forward, speaking, but Severus wasn't listening to what he said: he cast the _Brachiabindio_ spell wordlessly, watching with pleasure as Remus toppled to the floor. After all he'd done to befriend the werewolf, how dare Lupin argue with him right now?

Sirius, seeing his fallen friend, charged at Severus: but Severus just raised his wand, saying, "Give me a reason. Give me a reason, and I swear I'll do it."

Granger interrupted then: she babbled about wanting to hear what Sirius had to say, that there must have been a mistake, and Severus yelled until she shut up.

"Vengeance is very sweet," Severus said to his erstwhile nemesis. "How I hoped to be the one to catch you…"

"The joke's on you again, Severus. As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle, I'll come quietly," Sirius rasped, jerking his head to indicate Ron Weasley.

"Up to the Castle? I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow." He wouldn't, of course: he wanted Black to be humiliated, as payback for the many times Sirius had humiliated him. The look of pure terror on Sirius's pale face was quite worth it—Severus continued talking, milking this moment for all it was worth. He summoned the ends of the cords that bound Lupin, yelled at the children to follow him—

And then Harry strode to block the doorway. Severus yelled—how _dare_ Harry oppose him in his moment of triumph—and then Harry was yelling back, and just as Severus was yelling GET OUT OF THE WAY for the third time—there was a shout, and everything went black.

~~SS~~

When Severus awoke, he was lying just out of reach of the Whomping Willow, alone. How had he gotten here? Where were the others? Looking around, he spotted his wand lying on the ground a few feet away; he got to his feet and stumbled to retrieve it. The moon was up—Lupin must have transformed. Was he nearby? Scanning the surroundings, he noticed a crowd of Dementors near the lake—someone was summoning a Patronus. Merlin, that was a lot of Dementors! More than he could handle on his own, for sure.

He summoned a Patronus of his own, but instead of sending it to the lake, he used it to summon the headmaster: Dumbledore had his own ways of controlling the Dementors. He meant to cast another Patronus to help the person at the lake—Sirius, no doubt—but the Dementors were already drifting away. The shimmering Patronus—some large, four-legged animal, though he couldn't see what—lowered its head in front of the figure standing at the edge of the lake. Severus sprinted to them, just in case the Dementors came back.

~~SS~~

Harry and Sirius were unconscious when he reached the area, but Granger's eyes flickered open. "They're gone?" she whispered.

Severus nodded quickly. "Can you stand?" he asked. "I'm not sure I can levitate everyone."

Dumbledore sprinted up just then—he could move remarkably fast for a man past one hundred when he needed to—and indicated that he would handle the unconscious men. His _Mobilicorpus—_wandless and non-verbal, of course—gently lifted the two prone bodies into the air. Severus helped the weakened Hermione Granger to her feet and provided his arm to lean on.

"You should have listened to us," she told him. "Sirius is innocent. He didn't betray the Potters."

"Of course," Severus said gruffly. "But he still killed thirteen Muggles and Pettigrew."

"No! Pettigrew's alive! He's an Animagus!"

Severus chuckled. "Girl, I went to school with Pettigrew. He was the hardly the sharpest knife in the drawer. If you'd said _Sirius_ was an Animagus I'd believe you, but Peter? Hah!"

Granger limped along in silence, hopefully realizing how right he was. "You're lucky to be alive," he continued harshly. "If Sirius hadn't cast that Patronus—" he broke off suddenly, realizing that Sirius _should_ be wandless.

"It was Harry," Hermione explained. Seeing his shock, she added: "You underestimate him."

Severus sighed. "I know he's powerful, Miss Granger. But he could be even more so if he applied himself. And he's _very_ irresponsible, which is a horrible quality in a powerful wizard."

Granger let out a bark of laughter. "I know that better than anyone—I'm the one who has to nag him to do his homework. But Professor—he has a good heart."

"Sometimes meaning well is not enough."

"I know. You only need look at how the Ministry treats Muggles to know that."

"Huh. Sometimes I wonder, Granger—are you thirteen or thirty?"

She looked at him oddly. "Tonight—well, earlier tonight—you were exactly who Harry expects you to be. But sometimes, Professor Snape, I don't think anyone knows you at all."

~~SS~~

Aziz had been right. He'd caught Sirius Black and the Minister for Magic knew it.

"Did you know that Black would escape?" he asked the djinn later that night—after he'd had a major tantrum within hearing of the Minister, then eventually calmed down.

Aziz shrugged. "I knew he wouldn't die."

"Potter—and his sidekicks, too—seem convinced that Black is innocent. They _are_ Confunded, aren't they?"

"Didn't you say that you brought the Granger girl up to the Infirmary?" the djinn asked. "Did she seem Confunded to you?"

Severus didn't need time to consider his answer. "Not at all."

"Well, there you go," Aziz declared airily.

Severus collapsed into his desk chair and buried his head in his hands. "What a year. I don't think I've ever been this—this _angry_, aside from everything else. Merlin, I don't think I've ever lost control as badly as I have tonight."

"And why do you think that was?"

Severus opened his eyes and looked at the djinn as he considered. He ran his eyes over the baggy white trousers, the dark red tunic, Aziz's face with its chiseled features and dark, serious eyes, and finally the dark blue turban.

"I don't want to be my father, Aziz."

"You'll never be Tobias Snape. But it's never enough to know what you won't be. You have to know what you _will_ be. So who do you want to become? What sort of person will you be? I thought you knew—but sometimes I wonder."

Severus shrugged.

"Your wishes say a lot," the djinn prompted. "Though you can cancel them, if you really want."

"My wishes tell me that I long to be loved for who I am, that I want to be free."

Aziz poked Severus on his beaky nose—as well as he could for a non-corporeal being, anyway. "You are always free, Severus. Even when you're bound by commitments and responsibilities and other people's wishes—you're always free to make _some_ choices. I know that more than anyone."

His djinn had lived for well over a thousand years—in service to a master for most of them. And yet he was good, kind, usually patient—an amazing person. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

"I have this funny feeling that you're going to need to be in control of yourself soon," the djinn continued. "So figure out what you want. But next time, before you make a wish—maybe think about talking to me first?" 


End file.
